‘Dresses from all over the world!’ she spruiks from somewhere in the distance. ‘I’ll be back to help you pick one in a moment.’
Now, that’d be a great trick if she could pull it off.
‘Is that you, Katharine?’ Lainey squeaks over the top of everything.
Trying to find my friend among the aisles of dresses is like trying to make it through the labyrinth to Jareth’s castle. I follow her chorus of ‘ouches’, ‘be carefuls’ and ‘I need my boobs’ until I find her perched on a platform outside a fitting room. Immediately, I’m glad I made the decision to be here today because she looks stunning. There are no other words for it. Lainey is going to make the most incredible bride.
She’s been cinched and fastened into her dress, which is classic A-line with lace sleeves and plunging neckline. She’s got her hands up near her armpits while a seamstress drifts about her feet with a mouthful of dressmaking pins. I offer help, but there’s nothing I can do except take a seat on a silver velvet sofa opposite Camille, her mother, who gives me a stressed hello.
‘Is it okay?’ Lainey asks, eyes downturned in worry.
‘You look beautiful,’ I say, and I mean it.
‘Are you sure?’ she tries as she fluffs the skirt. ‘You don’t have to say that just because you’re my friend. You can tell me.’
‘Honestly, Frank’s not going to know what hit him.’ My voice breaks.
‘Did you bring food?’ Lainey changes topic like the wind. ‘I’m sure I heard you talk about food.’
‘I had coffee and cupcakes, but they got confiscated.’ I give an apologetic shrug. ‘Hopefully, we can get them back at the end of the exam.’
‘If I don’t eat something soon, I’m going to be carb neutral,’ she announces, sweeping back into the change room and pulling the curtain shut behind her.
‘Lainey, sweetie, you want your dress to fit.’ Camille offers a pinched face, ‘no offence’ grimace before turning her attention back to the demands she’s giving her daughter and the dressmaker.
‘And it will,’ Lainey calls from the other side of the curtain. ‘There is no way I’m dieting just so a bunch of your friends can turn up for a free feed.’
Camille tuts a sigh and gives her head a tight shake. I guess that tells me all I need to know about the state of the union this morning. I shrug. What more can I do?
‘Are you bringing anyone to the wedding?’ Lainey asks.
‘I’m not sure,’ I say, frowning. ‘How much longer do I have to decide?’
‘A week or two?’ The curtain sweeps aside, leaving Lainey standing there in her underwear with a pool of dress at her feet. ‘Is that okay?’
‘Perfectly fine.’
She fixes me with a look that begs for further explanation. ‘And are you okay?’
‘I really am.’ I give my best reassuring smile. ‘Better than fine. Life is wonderful right now.’
In the corner of my mind, somewhere by my shoulder, I’m sure I hear Christopher whisper, ‘That’s right. It’s because of me.’
I flick the metaphoric devil from my shoulder and train my attention back on my friend.
‘So, who are you thinking of bringing?’ she asks, strained. ‘Have you met someone? Remember, whoever you bring will need a place card.’
For the first time in our friendship, I feel like I can’t explain yesterday to Lainey. Not yet. It’s not that she wouldn’t understand. I’m sure she would. Maybe it’s just because I don’t even know what to label it yet. Does it even need a label? For all I know, yesterday could transpire to be nothing more than mixed signals and shared embarrassment. The last thing I want to do is put anything out in the universe and have it bite me on the arse at the first roundabout.
‘I might bring Adam,’ I offer. I probably wouldn’t. ‘He might like the night out.’
‘You’d bring your brother?’ she asks. ‘Did you know your gallery was the first time I’d seen him in years? Maturity suits him.’
‘Surely you’ve seen him before then?’ I ask, trying to think back to events over the last few years. I can’t picture them in the same space.
‘You know what you could do? You could advertise for a plus one.’ She steps out of the cubicle to the sound of her jeans zipper and shakes a finger at my scrunched face. ‘Hear me out. I’ve known people who’ve hooked up like that. Happily ever after. A guy at Frank’s work did it. Had been on Tinder for eighteen months, tried speed dating, blind dating, every other type of dating you could think of. I think he was just at that age where he was like, “Okay, I need someone.” Ad in the newspaper? Boom. Married. Boom. Second baby due next month.’
‘I’m okay as I am, thank you.’ I cross my legs at the knees and watch her spin in the mirror to make sure she’s dressed herself properly. I love her so much, but she’s definitely got a dose of wedding brain.
While she gathers her things, my mind floats back to the darkroom yesterday. I’m still trying to process what it means and whether I’m quite ready to take that leap of faith so soon after John. I know I told myself I didn’t want to jeopardise the gallery, especially if something went wrong, but if I put work before a relationship, doesn’t that make me just as bad as John?
‘Are you okay?’ Her eyes catch my reflection. ‘You look upset.’
‘Me?’ I point to myself. ‘I’m great, just a little exhausted, that’s all.’
‘You should have opened a gallery in London,’ Lainey’s mum offers.
I have no words.
Camille has barely slapped down the final payment for the dress and is racing down the street squawking about a tennis club meeting when we’re tearing at the bag of cupcakes. Our coffee is now iced, but we swallow everything down like rabid animals as we laugh and talk like we’ve not seen each other in months.
Lainey’s like a screaming pressure cooker, ready to pour out all her troubles this afternoon. From her too-involved mother to her barely-there father, playlists, first dances, and last-minute hiccups, she wonders aloud why anyone would be so desperate to get married.
‘Anyone would think it’s her getting married.’ She looks behind her just to be sure her mother really has disappeared.
‘Ah, she’s just excited.’ I bite my tongue and decide not to tell her how much I’d give for my own mother to be too involved in anything I’m doing. ‘Or, you know, limit the stuff you invite her to?’
She groans. ‘I couldn’t not invite her today. She’s paying for the damn dress.’
That doesn’t sound like the worst trade in the world, when you consider the prices I spied scrawled on swing tags in that shop. As we walk, I learn the boys’ suits have been ordered, the matron of honour is under control and there’s a bonbonniere-making weekend if I’d like to come along. I tell her I’ll think about it, but I’m sure the gallery is going to keep me busy.
‘You know, I was thinking of putting disposable cameras on each table.’ Lainey takes me by the hand and drags me into an American diner full of skating girls and milkshakes in metal tumblers. ‘Is that a bit unfashionable?’