Page 14

13 DAVID

74 Days Until the Wedding

‘Hello, you.’

Meg looked sheepish as she stood outside Savage Lilies waving. She was looking oddly at him, and perhaps it was because he wearing a large brown suede jacket with a shirt underneath, a smarter combination than anything she had usually seen him wear.

‘What’s with the clothes?’ she asked. ‘You look fancy.’

‘Meg, I can’t dress how I normally dress for a bridal shop.’ He spun round. ‘I made an effort.’

‘Well, thank you.’

He looked at the grandfather clock behind the counter. ‘Best be off.’

‘Where’s that clock from? It’s wonderful,’ Meg said, as they started to walk to the bridal place.

‘It was my parents’,’ he said. ‘The one thing I kept of theirs. Been in the family for years, I think. Costs a fortune to repair.’

He paused for a minute, remembering where it used to stand, in the doorway between the kitchen and living room in his family home.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked. ‘It’s dress day! One of the big ones.’ Meg was silent. ‘All okay?’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Meg said. ‘Just hope we can find the perfect one!’

‘No pressure, then.’

‘It’s just up here,’ Meg said, pointing to a cream-bannered shop. ‘I actually worked in the shop next door as a teenager. It used to be a gift shop.’

David looked sadly at the now vacant shop, and feared the same for Lilies. He put the thought out of his mind. Today wasn’t about him; today was about the dress.

He had often seen people going in and out of the bridal shop on the high street, groups of friends, daughters and mothers and sisters, all arm-in-arm outside the shop, the bride holding the huge dress in its protective casing, posing for pictures. He had never been inside. It felt like a space for women, and he felt somewhat hesitant about going in, which is why he’d made sure he and Meg were okay to meet and go in together.

‘I guess this is one of the only people in the town you don’t know? The only one of our appointments?’ Meg asked as they walked in the doors.

‘Pretty much.’ He was hoping with the launch of Work with Pride, that even those he hadn’t yet met, or wasn’t aware of, would soon be familiar to him. ‘I’m popular, what can I say?’

Inside, the shop was pink and white, with black signage that said, ‘I said yes to the dress!’ against a wall with flowery wallpaper. Through into another room, white dresses lined three of the walls on sturdy-looking rails, which were weighted down with black sandbags hidden beneath them. There was a huge mirror and sofa, with a ring light in front of the mirror, and there was a smell of sugary cleanliness from a tiny bar in the corner, with a fridge that seemed to only contain Prosecco.

Meg looked somewhat unconfident, and David wondered whether it was this, more than any other appointment, that she had envisaged completing with her mother.

‘You must be Meg,’ said the woman behind the counter. She had short dark hair, and a stern expression. Her skin looked soft and polished, effortlessly perfect, and she could be nearly any age. David had always wondered what you wore to sell a wedding dress, and it turned out the answer was a blazer, T-shirt and trousers, which brushed the floor just above her high heels, at exactly the right height.

‘Yes, hi.’ Meg was looking round the shop, and seemed somewhat overwhelmed. ‘Hi.’

‘Don’t worry, you don’t have to try them all on,’ the woman said, smiling. ‘I’m Susan,’ she added, shaking David’s hand.

‘David.’

‘Are you …’

‘A friend of Meg’s,’ he said. ‘Here to support.’

‘Lovely,’ Susan said. ‘Welcome. So, Meg, I’ve got your deposit, you’ve got the next hour for whatever you’d prefer. The way we usually do it, you pick five dresses. Hang them here, try them all on, and then we see whether you swap them all out, look for more of a certain type, whatever. Anything here, we tailor to your body shape obviously. I’ve been a seamstress forty years, do it all myself. That bit takes time but it’s so we can get it exactly right, and it works with your timeline. You’d come in for a fitting closer to the time anyway, so we make sure it’s perfect.’

‘That’s amazing,’ David said.

‘I can stand and say nothing, or I can give you my opinions,’ she suggested.

‘Maybe light-touch,’ Meg said.

‘Okay,’ Susan said, smiling. ‘And you mentioned your partner in the email, do you know what she’s wearing?’

‘No, we’re keeping it a secret.’

‘Better that way.’

‘Do you think?’ David said.

Susan nodded. ‘Means you can just do what you want, which is what’s important. Right, shall we get going? Can I get you both a drink?’

David enjoyed a cold Diet Coke from somewhere in the back room, careful not to move from his designated spot a few metres away from any fabric, as he chatted to Susan about the joys and trials of running a small business in the area. Meg circled the room, picking out dresses. David could see from the way she carried each one that they were heavy, and she was deliberating on each one she liked for a long time before adding it to the rail.

‘Do you need a hand?’ he asked.

‘No, all good,’ Meg replied. ‘I’m going to put this one on,’ she said, pointing to an embroidered flowery one.

‘That’s kind of like the dress I wore to my wedding,’ Susan said, as Meg headed into the changing area.

‘What did your partner wear?’ David said. ‘Did you attempt to match?’

‘He went traditional … navy suit, brown shoes. You know the type.’ Susan sighed. ‘Men’s clothes can be so boring.’

‘I need to figure out what I’m going to wear,’ David said.

‘We could always help. I know a few tailors,’ Susan said, smiling. ‘Other local businesses. Let me just check if Meg needs a hand.’

She put her head next to the changing area and called to Meg. ‘All good, thanks,’ Meg replied, and Susan came back to stand with him.

‘It’s nice to have gay people coming in to get their dresses now; makes for a whole different experience I find.’

‘In what way?’

‘Sometimes two brides come in together and I worry they might fight over the same dress, but mostly it’s so lovely. I find there’s a lot more emotion attached to it, and the options we’ve got in, we’ve got quite a few different things now, with how different all our brides are.’

‘I’m ready!’

Meg’s wavering voice rang out across the shop as she stepped out from the changing room and was guided onto the small circular platform in front of the mirror. The dress was huge and you could see her back muscles clenching as she tried to move in it. The back was baggy too, so she had stuffed a cushion in it to make it fit. After a second of looking at herself, she caught David’s eye in the mirror and they both smiled, before starting to laugh.

Before they knew it, they had the giggles.

‘So, not this one then?’ Susan said.

‘It really doesn’t suit me … I wanted to start with something traditional, sorry,’ Meg said. ‘I don’t know why this is so funny.’

‘I think it’s not the most flattering shape,’ Susan said.

‘I think it’s the back … Why have you put a cushion there?’ David said.

‘It was in the changing room on this stool. I’d read people do that somewhere.’

Susan stepped forward holding two large clasps. ‘We actually use these. That cushion is … décor.’

Before they knew it, they were all laughing.

‘Sorry, Susan,’ David said.

‘Whatever works for the bride,’ Susan said, in that reluctant way people are when they’re enjoying a joke but shouldn’t, like a tired father trying to put naughty children to bed. She was smiling but stern. ‘You should all be comfortable enough to say what you like, or don’t, in here. That’s the aim. You’re spending your own money.’

Next, Meg came out in three other dresses one by one. Initially, David felt like he was in the montage of a film. One was shorter, one had lacy sleeves and another had a sheer corset-type waist that looked uncomfortable. After each one, as soon as Meg looked in the mirror, she seemed to immediately know it was not for her, and did not even want to hear David or Susan’s comments. Often, it took one look and she knew, though Susan made her reluctantly spin around. She became sullen and quiet, and David could tell something was up. This was surely not what either of them had expected from the day. Tactfully, Susan went to busy herself at the front of the store, and David almost felt like looking around for support, before realizing that that was what he was there for. It had all been so easy in Savage Lilies that first day helping a stranger, but now he couldn’t help Meg without feeling the weight of her sadness himself.

‘Are you okay?’ he asked.

She looked at him, sniffed, and shook her head.

‘You know you don’t need to find one today,’ David said. ‘We can come back.’ He lowered his voice. ‘We can go somewhere else. It’ll be trying a few, and seeing which styles work, and even then there’ll be so many different versions.’ Meg looked at him, still not speaking. ‘Tell me how you’re feeling.’

‘I don’t feel like a bride.’ Meg’s lip was doing that wobbly thing that happened when you were a word or two from letting go of what you had been holding together. ‘You’re meant to be feeling amazing, and the best your life’s ever been, but … my parents still haven’t replied to that message about talking.’

‘I was going to ask whether …’

‘Yeah,’ Meg said, wiping her eyes. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but like, I don’t feel like it’s my wedding , you know. They should be here.’

David paused. He’d made a private pact with himself not to criticize Meg’s parents while being a kind of temporary father figure. He felt even more protective of her than before, but he knew she needed support, rather than not understanding how complex a parental relationship could be.

‘It’ll be okay.’ He moved closer to her. ‘Trust me, whatever happens, you’ve done what you can; you know that. You’ve behaved impeccably. Hey, why don’t you try that last one, since you got it out. You do need a dress and this shop is great. I think you’ve looked beautiful in all of them, but if you don’t like any, we can come back, go elsewhere, or you don’t actually even have to wear a dress! If you decide that isn’t right.’

‘I guess.’

‘I know it … I promise you, you can do whatever you like to make it feel right. We’ll sort it.’

He passed her a tissue quickly. The boxes of them dotted around were, presumably, for a more happy occasion, but they did their job.

‘Okay, I’ll try this one on,’ she said. ‘Only because Susan’s scary,’ she added, in a whisper, which made them both laugh.

‘Take your time.’

Meg went back into the changing corner, and it felt like ten minutes before she came back out. She had wiped the tears from her face, and her skin had a dewy soft tone to it. She had put her hair up and out of her face in a ponytail and she held her hands in front of her. The dress was beautiful. It had tiny straps on her shoulders, which seemed like they shouldn’t be able to support the dress and its train, which puffed out slightly but subtly from her frame. It was completely plain. No dramatic buttons, no corset, no detailing other than stitching in the places there had to be stitching, which meant that Meg was the focus, rather than the dress itself.

‘I think this is actually it.’

David smiled, and before long, realized he hadn’t actually said anything, since he’d been trying not to cry. She looked magnificent. He was glad she had decided it was the right one because otherwise he was going to have to convince her.

‘Do you?’

‘You look amazing,’ David said.

‘This feels much more you,’ Susan said, walking over from the front desk.

‘Do you think?’

‘Fits you really well already,’ she said. ‘Let me get the clasps. Are you having your hair up?’

‘I think so.’

Meg was smiling again, David was glad to see, and cautiously, just slightly, she seemed to be smiling at and admiring herself in the mirror.

Like the youth club would say, this was ace , David thought to himself.

He said he’d leave her to change back, and he went to speak to Susan. Be brave, he imagined Mary Portas saying in his ear, as he approached her with a stack of cards that he was hoping to leave in her window. He wanted to invite her to join his business network too. He hoped she’d say yes.

By the time he got home, David was exhausted. He had only been out of the flat for a couple of hours, but emotionally, he felt absolutely spent.

He came to hug Mark who was sitting on the sofa reading and as he started to talk about his day, Mark put the book down and lay down while David spoke.

‘And after those four dresses,’ David said, catching him up, ‘I was really worried.’

‘Well of course.’

‘But then, we had a bit of a pep talk – you know when you just take all the pressure off. The next one, she loved it. She absolutely loved it, and she was right to. She looked amazing. And I was thinking, you know, Matty could be the photographer for the wedding? I know he doesn’t do weddings, but maybe he would for this. I’ll have to ask him.’

‘Okay, yeah,’ Mark said. ‘Maybe.’

‘Next we need to do décor, and actually confirm the venue.’

‘You know Matty’s dad is in hospital?’

‘What?’

‘He’s okay, but he had a serious scare with his heart.’

‘Oh, that’s awful.’

‘I know,’ Mark said. ‘So maybe don’t message yet. And if you weren’t so obsessed with this wedding, maybe you would have spoken to him.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t even realize …’

‘I know you didn’t.’

David looked at Mark. It wasn’t like he was picking a fight; neither of them ever did that. His voice was level. It was clear, though, that he was upset.

‘Is what I’m doing with Meg a problem?’ David said. ‘I didn’t even know you were annoyed …’

‘I’m not annoyed ,’ Mark said, before sighing. ‘I’m a little frustrated that all you’ve talked about since you got in is somebody else’s wedding. You were late on Saturday and you didn’t prep anything like you promised you would. I’m worried about you too. This is a lot to take on with everything that’s happened to you.’

‘Okay but I solved Saturday, and I thought we were okay … I’m fine, I promise.’

Mark sat up and leaned against the arm of the sofa. ‘I’m deadly serious, David. I’ve not mentioned it for years but it’s been on my mind recently and I think it must be on yours, with all of this. I would like to get married. I would, before we’re old and we’ve got other priorities or life happens to us. I would like you to consider it properly, and work through whatever it is that just makes you shut down when we talk about it. Your parents can’t stop you doing certain things forever, not if those things are important to me too.’

‘Mark, I …’

‘It hurts to see you spend all this time on a stranger’s wedding when you won’t even talk to me about the possibility of us getting married. That’s the bottom line.’

‘It’s … Meg’s not a stranger.’

‘She was,’ Mark said. ‘Literally, what, three weeks ago, she was someone you didn’t know existed, and now it’s like you’re doing something every day for her. And the money problems at Lilies, David, you need to take them seriously. The shop has to break even. It’s not a game, it’s real life. I’d like to go on holiday this year … And if we got married, how would we pay for it?’

‘I know about the shop,’ David said.

‘I’d like to get married while my parents are alive,’ Mark said. ‘And it feels awful saying that to you that I might get a wedding where that does happen, and you won’t have that, but I really think we should do it.’

‘But our life is good!’ David said. He stood up, since sitting on the edge of the armchair was beginning to make his thigh ache. ‘Do you not think marriage is … for young people? What do you think people will think?’

‘What happened to not caring what people think? You have to practise what you preach. People would be happy! Who do you know in our lives who would be upset, or laugh at the idea of us getting married?’

‘Well, nobody.’

‘Exactly!’ Mark said. ‘David, please, just think about it seriously. And be mindful not to let Meg’s wedding take over. I know it’s exciting and it’s a nice thing for you to be doing. I get it; I really do. Meg is lovely. You just have other commitments too. Remember that.’

‘Okay,’ David said. ‘I’ll think about the marriage thing.’

‘You promise?’

David set his face straight and reached out to hold Mark’s hands. ‘I do.’

‘God, you’re annoying.’

They sat on the sofa together, in comfortable silence, and David couldn’t help but think of the first promise he’d made Mark, two decades earlier.

David was living in Wakefield, working as a teaching assistant. He had a few friends in the town from work, and a couple of others who had moved from Leeds. He was out at the town’s one gay bar with a friend, and was introduced to a number of other men, who all seemed to know each other, bringing friends of their friends to the table, until there were about a dozen or so of them. David had been seated next to Mark, and though they had chatted the entire night, everybody else fading to dust in his peripheral vision, David had not realized Mark had been flirting. Years later, Mark always told this story: David friendly but oblivious, him not knowing where he stood either.

They had kept talking, till the others were bored and went to dance, or get drinks, or went home, and it was just the two of them. David had kept telling Mark he was free to go dance, or go home, sorry if he was keeping him, and his complete lack of awareness was oddly charming, Mark also said later.

Much later in the evening, Mark’s friends had all left and he finally told David he’d like his number.

‘Why?’ David had said.

‘To call you.’

‘Why would you call me?’

‘To ask you out.’

‘Oh.’

The penny dropped, and David had scrambled for his recently purchased smartphone. They did not kiss that evening, just left on a note of hope and potential. Mark’s friends who he was staying with (turned out he was living in Leeds, not Wakefield, at the time) were heading home, and he couldn’t change plans as they’d worry, so rather than a kiss or anything more, they left on a promise.

‘You promise you’ll call me?’ Mark said.

‘Of course,’ David said, and he meant it. He knew, without doubt, that he would. ‘I promise.’

When Mark left, he wrote the number on his hand too, just in case anything went wrong with his phone, and the next day, he had called. The last nineteen years, ten months and five days, the best of his life, had all hinged on that promise.