Being Shirley (5 page)

While Attila was busy overdosing on caffeine and scouring the contract’s fine print for typos, Annie decided she needed to distract herself. She wasn’t in the mood to type or ring crusty old Mr Milner to change his appointment time; she’d do it later. No, she needed something non-work related, something positive to focus on. Remembering how she had mentioned to Kas that she and Tony needed to find a pastime they could share outside of the bedroom, she clicked online and ignored the pile of filing that laid forlornly at the bottom of her in-box.
I’ve got more important things to do than put that pile of old guff away
. She gave it a derisive glance before she turned her attention back to the computer screen. Her fingers hovered over the keys for a moment as she decided what she should Google before keying in
Top Sports for Couples.
She scrolled past the smattering of smutty ideas that popped up as a result of her search; she homed in on the site titled “The Top Five Sports for the couple who wants to stay together to play together” and clicked on it.

A loved up, attractive-looking couple that, as she peered closer at the screen she decided could pass for brother and sister, appeared on her screen. She noted they were both wielding golf clubs and looking pretty darn happy about it too. Golf—now that was something she hadn’t thought about trying before. Would she have to wear a cap and plaid trousers like the lady in the picture? Deciding the sight of her in said outfit wouldn’t do much for their relationship, she moved on. Next up was tennis; they’d been there and done that and nearly come to blows despite the cute white skirt. Table-tennis didn’t get a mention and besides, that hadn’t ended well either. Bowls got short shrift as being boring but skiing gave her pause for thought.

Annie chewed on her thumbnail and read the blurb eagerly about chasing each other down the slopes and following it up with hot toddies and goodness knows what else in front of a roaring fire. It did sound pretty tempting! But then her face fell as she remembered there was no snow on the slopes of the nearby Southern Alps at the moment.
That puts the kibosh on that one.
She crossed her fingers for number five. As she clicked on the arrow to the side of the picture, yet another laughing, deeply in love couple appeared but this time they bobbed about at sea in a kayak. Perfect!

Annie had not known until that moment that kayaking was something she’d always wanted to try but try it she would. Feeling more energised than she had in days, she picked up the phone to ring Tony.

***

Annie chewed her sandwich as she sat hunched over down by the banks of the Avon and wished she had brought her jacket to work because Pervy Justin was right: it was a bit on the brisk side today. She mulled over the conversation she had with Tony before she left the office for lunch. He hadn’t been impressed to hear her voice because he’d had his free hand down a toilet when she rang. In a thoroughly pissed-off voice, he informed her that his mother had drummed it into him and his brothers when they were growing up that the golden rule was always none for a wee and two for a poo. So why was it then that some kids felt the need to use a whole bloody roll, he’d demanded as though she held the answer to this great mystery of life. She hadn’t thought that telling him
it was just one of the many perils of the world of plumbing
would be deemed a helpful answer and instead she’d tried to move the conversation along and around to what she was in fact ringing him for. “Tony, let’s go kayaking this weekend.”

Her blurted announcement had been met by silence except for a background sloshing noise and she hadn’t gotten a chance to hear his thoughts on her proposal because at that moment Attila had flew towards her and waved the contract she had edited that morning like a whirling dervish. “Annie, what’s this?”

“I’ve got to go. Talk to you tonight.” She’d hung up just as the paper hit her desk. Highlighted in yellow was the sentence “
no but she’s not a stick insect, just a complete cow
.”

It hadn’t been the finest moment in her working career, Annie mused. She took another bite of her sandwich and eyeballed a duck as it waddled past her. She had a deep mistrust of ducks ever since one had nicked off with her Friday lunch treat, a souvlaki. She still cringed as she thought about the show she’d put on for her fellow alfresco riverside diners as she chased the greedy thing. She hadn’t a chance of catching it, though, because it had made a break for the water and dragged her double chicken with extra chili along behind it. Snaffling the rest of her sarnie before any ducks could launch an attack, she pulled her mobile out of her pocket and contemplated ringing Tony again. No, on second thoughts, perhaps their impending kayaking expedition was a conversation best covered face to face. She popped her phone back in her bag. She swiped the crumbs off her lap before she got to her feet, slung her handbag over her shoulder and dragged her feet back to work.

Carl nudged her leg with his knee under the table. “You didn’t answer me.” They were sitting opposite each other by the window inside the Lemongrass Diner. The popular Thai restaurant wasn’t difficult to find, with its oversized gold Buddha perched on the roof outside that grinned away at the passing trade. Annie had arrived with ten minutes to spare; Carl hadn’t been far behind her. At this hour of the day, there were only a handful of other patrons dotted about its dimly lit interior. The walls, she noticed as she glanced around, were decorated with a smattering of posters. There was one of elephants being ridden by local village men through the jungle, another of the Grand Palace, and a disturbing poster of tribal women with strange gold bangles wrapped around their necks that elongated them.
It did not look a very comfortable way of carrying on
, Annie thought and rubbed her own neck as their twin bowls of aromatic Pad Thai had arrived in record-breaking time.

She had been lost in thought about her and Tony’s kayak outing that she had finally managed to talk him round to this coming Sunday as she savoured the pungent rice dish. Outside, the streetlights had come on and office workers, huddled into their coats, strode past in a hurry to get home. “Sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”

“I asked if you’ve told Tones what we’re up to tonight.” At the expression on her face, Carl answered for her, “I can take that as a no then.”

“I didn’t see the point. I mean, I don’t even know if I’ll like the dress until I actually try it on.”

“If you say so.” Carl speared a piece of chicken with his fork. “Mmm, this is delish.”

“It is. You will never guess what Tony and I are doing tomorrow?” She scooped up a forkful of fluffy, savoury rice.

Carl raised a questioning eyebrow. “Do I want to know?”

She put her fork down, leaned over the table and thumped him playfully. “Don’t be rude. We’re going kayaking.”

Carl snorted. “Pardon?”

“Don’t look so surprised! I can be outdoorsy from time to time, you know.”

“The last time you did anything remotely outdoorsy was that team building bush walk your firm organised and”—he giggled—“when you dropped your drawers to go for a behind the bush wee, a bee stung you on your bum and it swelled up like a dinner plate. Ha-ha!” The giggle turned into a guffaw; the demure Thai waitress who was taking an order at the next table glanced over in alarm. Carl wasn’t in the least perturbed as he carried on. “You said Tony kept calling you his girlfriend with three cheeks for days after!”

Annie wriggled on her seat at the uncomfortable memory he had just conjured. It was not her most dignified moment, having to present her swollen left cheek to her doctor for inspection, who desperately tried to keep a straight face as she relayed her tale of woe. “It wasn’t funny—it was horrific and trust you to bring it up. What if I’d been allergic and gone into anaphylactic shock? Carl, stop laughing!” Once she was satisfied he had his breathing under control again, she said, “No, I’ve decided Tony and I need to find something we can do together and I’ve always wanted to try kayaking so—”

“I don’t remember you ever having expressed a desire to kayak before.”

She hadn’t but Annie wasn’t about to admit it. “Well, I have always wanted to and now finally I will get the chance.”

Carl wasn’t convinced and he raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Yes, well, I’ll wait by the phone with bated breath to hear how it goes. Sorry, that was really snarky!” He patted her hand apologetically. “It’s this business with David; it’s upset my natural balance. So come on then, tell me more about this kayaking trip of yours.”

Annie filled him in on how she’d managed to persuade Tony—only after threatening to show up down at the clubrooms after his next game in her leopard skin Onezee and matching slippers—that they should head out to Pegasus Town. There was a man-made lake at the subdivision there where they could hire a kayak for an hour or two’s bonding as they bobbed about together on the water. Given her reluctance to wear anything else at home during the cooler months than the Onezee, Tony was easily convinced that she would indeed carry out her threat and so had acquiesced fairly quickly on the kayak front.

She ignored Carl’s raucous laughter as she finished her explanation. She glanced at her watch, surprised to see it was already six fifteen. “Hey, we better eat up. I was hoping to get some dessert in.”

“No dessert for you, young lady.” Carl waggled his fork at her. “Not when you have a Julianne Tigre waiting for you to try on.”

***

Fifteen minutes after they’d gone Dutch on their dinner bill, Carl’s dulcet tones rang out from the behind the shop-side counter of Modern Bride. “Have you died in there, sweetness? Because I am at risk of passing away of old age if you’re much longer.”

“No, I’m not ready yet. Hold your horses! It’s not that easy getting into one of these things, you know.”

“Does Madam require assistance?” That from haughty Amanda, who hovered like an annoying wasp by the next size up in the rack of dresses from which Annie had lovingly plucked her Julianne Tigre from.

“No, thank you, I am fine. I won’t be a sec—
and you lot can shove your harps where the sun don’t shine, too
,” she hissed at the cherubs that gazed out at her from the wallpaper in a fitting room that was size wise on a par with her master bedroom. Its over-the-top Regency theme was at odds with the shop’s namesake Modern Bride. She frowned as she prepared to suck in one last time, because nobody loved a quitter.

At last she wrested the zipper into place and exhaled slowly, relieved there was no sudden ripping sound. She paused in front of the mirror for a glimpse before she opened the door and did the big reveal. She blinked.
Oh my God—was it really her?
Unable to believe her own eyes, she blinked again as she registered the reflection that gazed back at her.
Yes, yes, alright so the dress was on the snug side
, she thought as she ran her hands down all that lovely soft satinyness. But all brides lost weight before their wedding due to the stress of organising it. Everybody knew that—it was a fact. Or at least she was fairly sure it was a fact. Aside from not being able to breathe, though, she and the dress—the combination of them both together—well, it was everything she had ever dreamed of.

This really was her princess moment but it wasn’t a surprise. She’d known the moment she’d laid her eyes upon the swathe of ivory fabric on display in the shop window that it would be. She twirled slowly and became aware of an impatient foot that tapped outside the fitting room. With one last glimpse in the mirror over her shoulder, she called out, “Okay, I am ready, so shut your eyes!”

“She’s ready—thank God for that!” Carl glanced over at Haughty Amanda, whose lips pursed as she raised her eyes heavenward and sent up a silent prayer that madam hadn’t split the delicate seams of the satin.

Annie opened the door and glided out onto the shop floor. “Okay, you can open them now.” Fully aware that Carl was peeping anyway, she smiled tremulously at him. “Well, what do you think?”

Carl clasped his hands steeple-like in front of his mouth as his eyes swept from her head to her toes but gave nothing away as she slowly twirled around.

Annie shifted awkwardly; her hands dropped back down to her sides. “Come on then, what do you think—do you like it?” She was surprised at how much it mattered to her that he approve.

Carl blinked rapidly.

“Don’t cry.”

He fanned his hand in front of his face in an effort to compose himself. “I can’t help it. Oh, it’s, Annie, it’s—oh, you just look so—”

“What? What do I look? Spit it out!” Annie nearly shrieked, desperate for the verdict.

“Beautiful, exquisite, perfect—oh, I’d need a thesaurus to put all the adjectives to describe how you look into words—”

“It does rather become Madam, I must agree, although perhaps it is a little tight across the hips?” Haughty Amanda homed in to give the bodice a little tug where the fabric had wrinkled ever so slightly thanks to the snug fit. Annie was having none of it as she shied away from the older woman’s hands.

“It’s fine, truly. It fits me just fine.”
Or it will once I drop the choccie biscuits at morning teatime
, she self-affirmed.

“Oh, I thought of some more: stunning, gorgeous, ethereal—” Carl continued to wax lyrical, “but—”

Annie lapped up all the adjectives until she froze. “But what?”

“It’s just that—”

“It is not too tight like I told Haught—I mean Amanda here. It is NOT TOO TIGHT.”

Carl held a hand up, well versed in his day-to-day dealings with models at calming a woman’s potential histrionics. “No, no, sweets, of course it’s not. It fits you like a glove. That’s not it at all.”

Annie placed a hand on her hip and looked at him searchingly. “Well, what is it then?”

“I don’t know how to say this—”

Carl was not usually one to be lost for words or to beat around the bush. Her skin went goosy as she wondered what it was he struggled to tell her.

“Would you just say it please—whatever it is, I can take it, I promise.” Annie lied.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course I am sure. Good friends can be completely honest with each other.” She lied again.

“I’m glad because you know how much I love you but I can’t let you spend this kind of money on a dress, let alone go to the altar in good conscience, if I don’t say my piece.”

Haughty Amanda and Annie’s breath was bated.

“Annie, my sweet, the dress is perfection—you are perfection—but the man you are planning on marrying is not right for you. I’ve gone along with things and humoured you where Tony is concerned but seeing you now in that dress, well, I am sorry, sweetie, it’s a keeper—the fiancé is not.” He swiped his brow, oblivious of the hurt that flashed across Annie’s face as he added in a jokey tone, “There, I said it. That wasn’t so bad, Carl, now was it.” He registered the shock on her face as he looked at her and took a step towards her. Annie held her hands up as though to ward him off. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I know I should have said something before but I got swept up in this—the trying on of the dress thing. I can’t help it, though; I just love a bride.” He attempted a feeble smile. “Besides, it can’t be that much of a shock—you know how I feel about Tony.”

That was true. He had never hidden his feelings about him from her nor had Tony made any secret of his dislike for Carl either for that matter. The feeling was mutual; there was no love lost between either of them. Still, she shook her head. “But I don’t get it. You were asking me when we were going to set the date not long ago and telling me you had a suit that needed an airing and well, everything. I was going to get you to be my best man.” She sniffed.

“Really, me? Your best man?” Carl looked like he would like to retract his earlier statement.

“Yes really.”

He shifted on the balls of his feet and shoved the image of himself looking suave next to the blushing bride aside. “Oh, sweetie, I would dearly love to be your best man but not if I feel you are making a mistake. Besides which, you and I both know Tony would walk before he’d stand near me at the altar.” He ran his fingers through his fringe. “Despite these enlightened times we now live in, liberal minded Tony is not and you know what else? Now that I am being honest, I suppose I never thought that the two of you would ever get round to making it formal. I thought you’d be one of those couples who’d stay engaged until one day you’d both wake up and well—break up. Seeing you here now in that gorgeous creation,” he gestured at the dress, “well, it’s brought it home to me that you are serious and I needed to tell you how I feel.”

“I wish you hadn’t.”

“Oh, come on, darling, surely you don’t see yourself spending the rest of your days with Macho Man?”

“Of course I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten engaged to him.” Her bottom lip trembled. “And he is not macho—he is just a man’s man, that’s all.”

Carl’s expression grew petulant. “Well, I owe it to Roz not to let you make a monumental mistake.” This was stated with a sanctimonious flourish that said he had made his point.

Roz’s name was the red rag to the bull. “Don’t you bring her into this! It’s not as though she made sterling life choices, is it? And nobody made you my guardian either, thank you very much.” Annie’s face heated up, along with her temper, as her voice rose and the seams of the dress strained. “Besides, look at the state of your relationship—you’re hardly in a position to be advising me on marriage!”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Annie regretted them. Hurt flickered over Carl’s face. “Oh! I’m sorry, Carl. That wasn’t called for.”

Carl, however, was a world-class sulker and as his bottom lip jutted out, it seemed they’d reached a silent impasse.

Haughty Amanda’s head stopped swinging back and forth as though she watched a particularly feisty game of tennis and her attention settled on Annie.

“Ahem, might I offer Madam some help getting out of the dress?” She was petrified this lull in bickering was the calm before the storm. A catfight while Madam was wearing a one-off, Julianne Tigre design she did not need, thank you very much!