A Vintage Wedding (36 page)

‘I could probably find you a new dress,’ said Beth. ‘A lovely dress, something you’d be happy to walk down the aisle in …’

Helena made a big effort and sniffed hard. ‘Not on our budget. Mum said a grand, tops. I know it’s really mean but we did spend the money she originally gave to us on travelling.’

‘Hang on,’ said Lindy, ‘a thousand pounds is loads of money. Are you sure you can’t buy a dress for that?’

Helena shook her head. ‘Not in the time, and not anything I’d want to wear. It’ll have to be the bin liner option. Can you do anything creative with a bin liner?’

‘I can’t do much with a bin liner,’ said Lindy thoughtfully, ‘but did you say you’d bought a basque? Can we have a look at it?’

She made Helena put it on – a process that was barely possible without a maid or a lover to help and neither were available to Helena just then, but somehow she managed to do it up and screw it round so it was more or less on.

‘It’s lovely!’ said Beth.

‘It is. It’s perfect,’ said Lindy. ‘Would you mind if I turned it into a wedding dress? We’d just about have time for that. It would tie in beautifully with the bridesmaids’ dresses I’ve thought up. Shall I tell you about them?’

‘Just as well Skype is free,’ said Lindy a little later. ‘We’ve been on it for an hour and a half. I’ll just check on the boys.’

Beth had made tea by the time she came down again.

‘Both asleep, phew. They’re in my bed but I’ll move them later. Tea. Oh, you star, Beth.’

‘I thought I ought to do something, seeing as my family are being a complete nightmare,’ said Beth. She felt very responsible for the enormous trouble she was putting Lindy to.

‘Oh, don’t apologise. I’m loving it,’ said Lindy. ‘It’s just what I like best. We are horrendously short of time and I’ll need you to source the fabric for me, but this is going to be epic.’

Beth inspected her friend for signs of clinical lunacy. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. This is what I love. And you’ve been amazing.’

‘What have I done?’ said Beth.

‘You got Helena to decide about colours for the bridesmaids as well as hers. You can order the tulle and as soon as it’s here, I can get going.’ Lindy frowned. ‘When are your mother and Helena arriving?’

Beth looked at her watch. It seemed a lifetime had passed since their morning meeting at the pub. ‘Tomorrow, but not till the evening, thank goodness. Me and Rachel are painting the bedrooms. Just the walls, not the paintwork.’

‘Oh, yes, I’d forgotten.’ Lindy didn’t seem to care about this much. ‘But I’m really pleased. I can’t wait to get started.’ She paused. ‘Honestly, Beth, this wedding thing of yours has really given us a boost. We’ll all have an online presence thanks to you. Rachel is so loving it all. She’s going to be winning awards for her services to the B-and-B industry any minute. And I’m having so much fun. Really, before you came I mostly put patches on school trousers and turned up jeans. And if you’ve ever sewn denim you’ll know how much fun that is.’

Beth sighed deeply. ‘I’m so glad. Sometimes I think my family is a major pain.’

‘Challenging is the word. But hey, what do you think about Rachel and Raff getting it together? Amazing, huh?’

‘Oh my God!’ agreed Beth. ‘Has that girl been on a learning curve. She’s changed completely since she met him.’

‘And what about you and Finn?’ asked Lindy. ‘He is very attractive.’

Beth couldn’t help sighing. ‘Well, I don’t know if anything is actually going on, but I have completely got over Charlie.’

‘Not surprised! Gorgeous Celtic ex-boy-band member versus farmer-with-no-self-control? No contest.’

‘And I do think he likes me, but as he said, he’s never here for long enough for us to go out or anything.’

‘It’s nice to be able to think about him though, isn’t it? Or are you just too yearny?’

‘I’m a bit yearny, but not too much,’ said Beth, glad that Lindy seemed to understand. ‘I have a hope that we might at least go out together, even if we don’t end our lives together. I would like that, of course, but I realise it’s fairly unlikely and that’s OK.’ Lindy sighed suddenly. ‘So what about you and Angus?’

‘It all got a bit out of hand, frankly.’

‘Out of hand? Angus? Surely not!’ Beth was amazed.

‘It was me that got out of hand, to be honest. But we’ve agreed we’re going to take things much more slowly now.’

Beth giggled. ‘You dark horse, you! But how lovely!’

As she walked home shortly after this Beth realised it
was
lovely. Lindy worked so hard, she deserved a lovely steady man like Angus. She just really hoped it worked out for them.

‘I cannot believe my daughter is going to walk up the aisle wearing nothing more than a bra and a bit of net. You can see her legs!’

Vivien and Helena, who’d not yet been in the village for twenty-four hours, were already getting everyone to run round in circles. Beth had had to spend time playing a hairdryer over the walls of their bedrooms to make sure they didn’t get paint on their clothes.

Lindy, however, was calm. She was crouching at Helena’s feet, checking for length, and was actually very pleased with how it looked so far. They were in Rachel’s sitting room, summoned early by Vivien who was still furious with her daughter for buying a basque and not a dress. ‘There will be many more layers of net,’ she said. ‘I’ve only had time to do a couple of layers.’

‘The fabric only arrived this morning,’ said Beth. ‘Lindy’s done brilliantly to get this far. It’s only ten o’clock.’

Rachel, who had served proper coffee and home-made (by Lindy’s grandmother) biscuits when everyone arrived, picked up Helena’s hair, which was tumbling round her shoulders like a wet sheep and secured it on top of her head with a covered elastic band and some pins.

Lindy picked up a bit of ribbon and put it round Helena’s neck. ‘There,’ she said. ‘The Degas look.’

‘Oh,’ said Vivien, the wind taken out of her sails.

‘Can I see?’ demanded Helena. ‘Everyone knows what I look like and I don’t!’

‘I’ll go and get the long mirror,’ said Rachel.

When she’d stood the pier glass in front of Helena, the bride-to-be regarded herself. ‘Oh my God! That’s amazing.’

Vivien stood beside her daughter and looked too. ‘Actually,’ she said after a long time, ‘I think it might work.’

Beth began to applaud, Lindy joined in and Rachel said, ‘I’ve got a bottle of fizz in the fridge.’

‘It’s a bit early, isn’t it?’ said Vivien.

‘They always give you fizz at the best wedding-dress shops,’ said Rachel.

‘It is a bit early,’ said Lindy. ‘I’m going to have to really hurry up to get this dress done by next week. And the bridesmaids’.’

‘Oh come on!’ Beth pleaded. ‘Let’s have the fizz. My mother and my sister are agreed on a wedding dress. How often does that happen?’ She frowned. ‘Sorry, Mum, Hels, but I never thought it would. You never agree about anything. We should celebrate.’

‘Are you sure it doesn’t look like underwear?’ asked Vivien as Helena examined her reflection from every different angle.

‘It does a bit now,’ said Lindy. ‘But when you’ve got all the layers and maybe gloves? A proper bit of ribbon round her neck, a veil—’

‘She’s wearing my veil,’ said Vivien, and then cleared her throat.

Helena spun round. ‘Am I, Mum? Did you mention that?’

‘What a brilliant idea,’ said Lindy. ‘How very special. What sort of veil is it?’

‘Silk net, fairly short, and I would be thrilled if you would wear it, Helena.’

Lindy looked at the bride’s mother, who up until now had been as demanding and unreasonable as befitted her role. She suddenly seemed vulnerable and tentative.

Helena turned. ‘I’ll definitely give it a go.’

‘Have you got it with you, Mrs – er – Vivien?’ said Lindy.

‘Actually, I have.’ Vivien went across to her enormous handbag, which looked frighteningly designer to Lindy. She produced a carrier bag and from it a parcel of tissue paper. ‘Here it is.’

‘But, Mum!’ said Helena. ‘It’s yellow!’

‘It hasn’t aged as well as I’d hoped,’ said Vivien with a sigh.

‘Could you dye the net to match?’ suggested Helena.

Lindy cleared her throat. It had taken her and Beth a long time to choose exactly the soft creamy white that matched the basque and was really pretty. No way was she going to try to dye it. ‘Can I see the veil? Shall we try it on for size?’

Short and full, it made Helena look more like a ballerina than ever. ‘It’s perfect,’ declared Lindy.

‘The colour isn’t.’ Vivien sounded so dejected. ‘We could have it copied, I suppose.’

‘Would you mind if I had a go at cleaning it?’ said Lindy. ‘Of course I could make a veil in the same net as the skirt but it would be a shame not to use this one. Something old and borrowed at the same time.’

‘You will be careful …?’ said Vivien.

‘I’ll ask my grandmother to help,’ said Lindy. ‘She’ll have some old-fashioned whitening remedy used by the National Trust or something, I know she will.’

‘Well, that would be all right, I suppose,’ said Vivien.

‘Here comes the fizz!’ said Helena. ‘I must say, it might be early but I could really do with a glass.’

When the prosecco had been drunk and the champagne flutes washed and put back in their box, Lindy gathered her dressmaking materials and the veil and went to see her grandmother.

‘Hello, darling,’ Eleanor said. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘How do you know I want something?’ said Lindy, kissing her grandmother. ‘I might have just come round to see you.’

‘That is possible, but given all the things you’ve got on your plate at the moment, not likely.’

Lindy sighed. ‘Well, you are right, as it happens. It’s this veil.’

‘Bring it all into the sitting room where the light’s better.’

‘They really want to use it,’ said Lindy. ‘And Vivien, who is extremely bossy and a Mumzilla when it comes to her daughter’s wedding, got all sentimental at the thought of her daughter wearing it.’

Eleanor took the veil over to the window. ‘I think I could sort this out for you.’

‘Could you? That would be so brilliant! When I suggested you’d know of some wonderful old cleaning method, Vivien was delighted. It’s so precious to her but she does want Helena to look amazing and she will if the veil isn’t yellow.’

‘Leave me a scrap of the skirt material and I’ll see what I can do.’

‘How long will it take? You know how tight we are for time …’

‘Well, when I’ve gathered the right herbs, when the moon is on her back and the nightingales are singing …’

‘Gran! I’m serious!’

‘Come back this afternoon. Actually, I’ve got the boys, haven’t I? I’ll have it done by the time you come to pick them up.’

As Lindy left she realised she had no idea how her grandmother intended to clean the veil and felt it was for the best. If she did know she’d only worry about it.

‘Oh my God!’ she said when she saw the veil later than afternoon, while the boys watched
Scooby-Doo
. ‘It’s white! What did you do with it?’

‘You asked me to clean it,’ said Eleanor reasonably. ‘It’s clean. What’s the problem?’

‘It’s – er – very clean, Gran! I mean – whiter than – well, it was.’

‘It was whiter than white,’ said her grandmother. ‘But then I dipped it in a bit of tea to make it the same colour as the tulle you’re using for the skirt.’

‘OK,’ said Lindy, realising that this was a good thing really, as long as Vivien never found out. ‘How did you wash it?’

‘Biological washing powder. Bit of bleach. Came up a treat. What?’

‘Vivien will die. I’ll have to tell her you did something else.’

Her grandmother shrugged. ‘People did use to bleach things in the olden days. Now don’t worry. All will be well. When Vivien sees how lovely her daughter looks in the veil she won’t mind about anything else.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. I’m really sure. Your mum wore my veil. I cried when I saw her in it.’

Lindy put her arms round her grandmother and hugged her. ‘Oh!’

‘And I’ll cry again when you find yourself a proper partner.’

Lindy suffered a pang of guilt. She had found a lovely man, but partner? ‘You know how I feel about having a stepfather for the boys.’

‘I do and I completely understand but I think you might have to relax your rules. Otherwise they’re growing up without a father and that’s not good, really.’

‘They have a wonderful grandfather.’

‘I know but it’s not quite the same.’

‘A stepfather wouldn’t be the same.’ Lindy felt pleased with herself for this. Her grandmother didn’t nag but every now and again she told Lindy things she felt she ought to know.

‘Ah! You got me. You’re right. But think about it, Lindy. Those boys need a dad. And you’re a lovely girl, very young. Too young to become a nun.’

Lindy walked home with the veil and the sample thinking about the ‘nun’ remark and wondering if she was being ridiculous and should really just let her relationship with Angus develop as her grandmother said. What was she afraid of? But splitting up from his brother had been difficult. And very hard for Ned. Billy had been too young to notice really. But if she got together with Angus and it all went wrong it would be a lot harder now they were bigger and more aware.