The Seven Month Itch (7 page)

‘Hi, Nessa!’ Susannah says brightly, from the far end of the kitchen bench. It’s the worst possible thing to see first up on a Saturday morning – something washed, juiced (Juicy Coutured, that is), make-upped, bright, chirpy and all’s-well-with-the-world friendly. It’s like looking directly at the sun. Like being tied down to a chair and having to listen to the Celine Dion collection. Like having to watch Doris Day movies back to back.

Bleh.

I look away quickly in case her blondeness (is that a word, or should it be ‘blondity’?) blinds me. ‘Hi.’

‘Your dad’s just popped out for some croissants,’ she continues, stuffing some papers back in a folder.

But wait. Hang on. My sleepy eyes suddenly wake up.
They’re not just any papers she’s stuffing there. And she’s not stuffing them into just any folder. They’re my papers. And my folder. The wedding folder. Susannah is going through Dad and Holly’s wedding folder …

‘What are you doing?’ I take the five steps over to her quickly.

‘I know. I’m sorry,’ she replies. ‘It was right on the edge of the bench and I brushed past it and it fell off. The papers kind of went everywhere. Don’t worry, though, none of them seems to be dirty or anything. They look fine.’

I take another two steps closer, right up to her now, and watch in disbelief as she places the papers back in the folder in completely the wrong order. ‘Here,’ I tell her, holding out my hand. ‘I’ll do it.’

Susannah hands over the papers still left in her hand and the folder. ‘I’m sorry. I’m doing it all wrong, aren’t I?’ She laughs slightly as she says this.

I bite back my ‘Yes’ and start flicking through the papers, placing them in the right order. Florist, restaurant, hotel …

‘Ooohh, Nico’s,’ she says, handing over the last piece of paper – a menu. ‘I’ve been there. Isn’t it just the best?’

I glance up for a second, before going back to sorting
my papers. I’ve got most of them in the correct order now. All of them except one. I take a quick step back, then to the left, then to the right, looking at the surrounding floor area. Finally, I look back up at Susannah.

‘Is there something missing?’ Her eyes widen, all innocence.

My teeth grind together. ‘The marriage licence,’ I say. ‘The marriage licence is missing.’

Susannah’s eyes widen further. ‘You can’t find the marriage licence?’ She runs around to the other side of the kitchen bench, back again, then gets down on her hands and knees.

I watch her little show and, slowly, cross my arms.

‘Have another look,’ she says, looking up at me from the floor. ‘Only a couple of things fell out and they fell out right here, on the floor. It must be here somewhere.’

‘I’ve already had a look. It’s not there.’

Slowly, Susannah stands up. ‘It
must
be.’ When she’s finally standing again, she goes to reach for the folder. ‘Maybe if I have a look …?’

‘I don’t think so,’ I say, pushing the folder away.

Susannah takes a step back. ‘Maybe you –’

‘Maybe you took it out,’ I interrupt. My heart is racing at a million beats per second.

She takes another step back, frowning now. ‘Sorry? Why would I take it out?’

My heart pummels against my chest. It’s now or never. ‘Because you’re Eve.’

‘Eve?’

‘Eve and The Girl all rolled into one,’ I tell her.

There’s a long pause. ‘Eve? And what girl? I’m sorry, Nessa, I don’t understand.’

Standing my ground in front of her, I don’t say anything.

‘Nessa, are you all right?’ Susannah asks after a while. ‘Did you want me to give your dad a call perhaps?’

I wake up to myself now. ‘No.’ Definitely, definitely no. I have just accused Susannah of being like a nameless character in a Marilyn Monroe film. I definitely, definitely do not want to give my dad a call right now. Maybe watching
The Seven Year Itch
last night was a mistake after all … I try to calm myself down. Especially when I catch a glimpse of Susannah’s expression. She’s looking at me as if I’m kind of … weird. I shrug. ‘I guess I’m just a bit stressed.’

Susannah pauses, then nods understandingly. ‘Planning a wedding is hard, huh?’

I shrug again.

‘And I guess me being clumsy doesn’t help.’

I don’t look at her.

‘Is there, um, something I can help with? I might be able to squeeze a bit of time in with you today when I’m finished with your dad.’

My back goes up again at the sound of this. That’s all I need – Susannah in on all my wedding plans. Not likely.

‘No thanks,’ I mumble, then glance at the time. If I don’t hurry I’m going to be late for Alexa and my bridesmaid dress fitting in the West Village. But I still can’t see the marriage licence anywhere. ‘I’ve got to go,’ I say, as I head back towards my bedroom. ‘If you find the licence, or any other papers, give me a call.’

I have the fastest shower ever, throw on any clothes I can find, and then spend the last ten minutes I have before I’m
really
going to be late combing through my bedroom, the
wedding folder and the kitchen for the marriage licence. I can’t find it
anywhere
. It’s simply gone. I saw it yesterday, when I was at the florist, at the Mercer and at Nico’s, and I even saw it just before I left the folder on the kitchen bench at home, so I know I didn’t lose it somewhere along the way.

By the time I hurl myself in and out of the subway and get to the dressmaker, I’m distraught.

‘Hey, Ness,’ Alexa greets me outside the dressmaker’s studio, and it’s all I need to set me off. I burst out crying. ‘Ness! What’s the matter?’

‘Marriage … licence … gone.’ I manage to gulp out the few words.

‘What? What do you mean “gone”? Gone where?’

‘Gone.’ My hands are flailing around and people are beginning to stare as they walk past. ‘Disappeared.’ I burst out crying again.

Alexa sits me down on the front step of the studio and pats my back until I calm down. Eventually I’m able to tell her about what happened this morning.

‘Wow. That’s strange,’ she says when I’m done. Her eyes flick sideways to meet mine. ‘But do you really think Susannah took it? I mean, why would she do that?’

‘I don’t know. Because she doesn’t want Dad and Holly to get married maybe.’

Alexa gives me a ‘Really?’ look.

‘All I know is it’s gone,’ I tell her. ‘It was there yesterday, at home. On the bench. And this morning it’s gone and Susannah was fiddling around with all the papers.’

Alexa frowns. ‘It does seem like a bit of a coincidence,’ she admits.

‘Girls?’ A head pops out of the door behind us. It’s Jacqui, the dressmaker. Holly recommended her to us, as she’d worked with her on a film once and thought her ideas were great. ‘We really need to get going with those fittings. Nessa, if I could have you first?’

‘Sorry, Jacqui.’ I jump up, giving the occasion the urgency it deserves. With all the marriage licence fuss going on, I’d completely forgotten about the fitting.

Alexa looks up at me from the front step. ‘Here, give me the folder while you’re inside,’ she says.

I hand it down to her. ‘Sure. But it’s not there. Believe me, I’ve checked about three million times.’

Just as Jacqui’s sticking me (well, okay, not me, but my dress) with her last pin, Alexa bursts into the shop with a grin on her face. ‘All sorted,’ she says.

‘What? You found it?’ I whip around in my gorgeous teal vintage Jean Patou rip-off. (My dad was hardly going to shell out thousands for a real one, was he? Plus, he had to pay for Alexa’s Louis Verdad rip-off. Good thing we can read
InStyle
as well as the next girl, huh?)

Alexa shakes her head, but she’s still pleased with herself. ‘Nope. It’s definitely not there. But guess what? You don’t need the piece of paper there on the day. As long as the licence has been
applied
for, it’s okay.’

‘It’s okay?!’

Alexa nods, still grinning. I jump down off the wooden platform I’m standing on and hug her – only to jump back equally quickly when I get stuck by a pin. ‘Ow!’

‘That’s it, Nessa. You can take your dress off now. Carefully. You’re ready, Alexa?’ Jacqui asks.

My ordeal now over, I go and peel the dress off me, and put my own clothes back on. I return to watch my best friend take her turn at being Jacqui’s human pincushion.

‘I can’t believe that about Susannah,’ Alexa says,
shaking her head as Jacqui works on the hem of her dress. ‘Do you really think she took it? That she has a thing for your dad or something?’

I think about Susannah. About her cupcake-frosting-on-my-dad’s-beard giggles and her mole-sauce finger licking and her innocent-eyed wedding folder stuffing. But does she really have a thing for my dad? I simply don’t know. ‘I know she likes him …’ I begin. Hmmm. Just like The Girl had liked her older, married neighbour in
The Seven Year Itch
.

‘Maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe it just slipped underneath something, like the sofa, or under the pantry door.’

I shake my head. ‘I looked
everywhere
.’

‘It’ll turn up.’

I wish I could be as positive as Alexa. ‘I hope so. Oh, sorry …’ I say, to both Jacqui and Alexa, as my cell phone starts ringing. ‘I’d better take it. Wedding stuff.’

‘Hey, Ness. I’ve got a question for you.’ It’s Marc.

I frown. ‘What’s that?’

‘What did the blonde customer say to the busty waitress after she’d read her name tag?’

I sigh. ‘What?’

‘“Debbie”, that’s cute. What did you name the other one?’

I’m not amused. ‘Marc, I really don’t have time for this now.’ I turn away from Alexa and Jacqui. The last thing I feel like at the moment is having dumb-blonde jokes hurled at me.

‘I’ve got another question,’ he says.

‘Marc …’

‘No, really. Is everything okay over there? I haven’t heard from you in a bit.’

I bite my lip and stare at the distressed wooden floorboards. ‘Um, everything’s fine,’ I lie. ‘I’m just busy. You know, with the wedding plans. Sorry I haven’t had time to IM you or anything.’

‘That’s okay. I just wanted to check in with you. Is there anything I can do?’

Sure – come back and frisk Susannah for the marriage licence! That’d be a great start (and I’m sure he could use all his fabulous dumb-blonde jokes to impress her), but it’s not what I say, of course. ‘Thanks, Marc, but it’s all under control. I’m going to have to run now, though. I’m in the middle of my bridesmaid dress fitting.’

On the other end of the line, Marc pauses. ‘Ness, is everything really okay?’ he asks again.

‘Yes, really!’ I try to lighten up my voice a bit. ‘Thanks heaps for asking if you can help. Try to keep Holly happy for me, will you? I think she’s a bit down.’

‘Yeah, I know. I’m trying. I’ll talk to you later, huh?’

‘That’d be great. Thanks again, Marc.’ I end the call and stick my cell back in my pocket, turning to face Alexa and Jacqui again at the same time.

‘More dumb-blonde jokes?’ Alexa asks, towering above me as Jacqui keeps pinning away.

I nod and roll my eyes. ‘Sort-of-stepbrothers-to-be.’

Alexa, the only child, nods back. ‘They’re the worst.’

The three of us are silent as Jacqui finishes off Alexa’s hem. ‘Right, that’s it, girls. You’re free,’ our dressmaker says at last. ‘Now, don’t worry, Nessa, I’ll make a note to fix that itchy seam, and I’ll have the dresses sent over on Friday, as we arranged, will I?’

‘Yes. Thanks, Jacqui.’ I then spend the next few minutes paying the final instalment on the dresses while Alexa goes and wriggles out of her dress and into her normal clothes.

‘You know what?’ she says when we’re outside again.

‘What?’ I turn towards her.

‘I think what you need is a wedding-free day. Let’s go catch a movie or something.’

After this morning’s events, a wedding-free day sounds perfect to me. ‘Okay,’ I say. ‘That sounds good.’

‘But nothing at Cinema Village, all right?’ Alexa glances up the road nervously, in the direction the independent cinema lies. ‘Something …
mainstream
.’ (I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me for the time I took her to see that weird Spanish film. Or was it Chinese? I can’t remember.) ‘Did you want to see if Toby can come?’ she adds.