Page 41 of Wrapped Up at the Vintage Dress Shop (Vintage Dress Shop Romance #3)
Some appropriately rousing music started playing to accompany Phoebe’s stirring speech.
‘These women all had something in common, a shared sisterhood, as they slipped on a dress that they’d chosen so carefully.
Sometimes a dress they’d scrimped and saved for.
A dress that made them feel beautiful and special and like the best version of themselves because that’s the alchemy of a good dress. ’
Phoebe was all ready to thrust the phone away when the clip cut away to a head and shoulders shot of Birdy saying, ‘I stand with Phoebe from The Vintage Dress Shop. You don’t just own a vintage dress. You own a story, a piece of someone else’s history and you have to respect that.’
There was a sudden unexpected prickle in Phoebe’s eyes as if she might start crying. ‘Well, that’s very sweet of Birdy,’ she mumbled.
‘Not just Birdy,’ Bea said, coming to stand over Phoebe so she could thrust her phone in Phoebe’s face too. ‘There’s your mate, Marianne.’
It was the same clip of Phoebe with the speechifying and the anthemic music, then there was Marianne looking fierce as ever with her bright red hair freshly pin-curled and not even seeming the least bit hungover from last night.
‘I abso-bloody-lutely stand with Phoebe and The Vintage Dress Shop. Respect the vintage, kids.’
‘That’s called a stitch,’ Bea said knowledgably. ‘When you combine someone’s video with your own reaction video. Did we cover that in the tutorial I gave you the other week?’
They hadn’t. Phoebe sat up. ‘I’m glad that Birdy and Marianne have stuck up for me but two people isn’t going viral. Even I know that.’
‘But it’s not just them,’ Bea said, thrusting the phone at Phoebe again.
‘You nearly had my eye out, Bea!’
‘Sorry, but I’m very excited about this.
There’s two hashtags, #IStandWithPhoebe and #IStandWithTheVintageDressShop and our Instagram and TikTok follows are going through the roof.
All the vintage sellers and vintage girlies are rallying around,’ she said.
‘Not just our vintage girlies, but people we don’t even know from all over the place. America, France, Germany, Brazil . . .’
‘Even Clive,’ Sophy interrupted, her voice practically vibrating.
Phoebe frowned. ‘Who?’
Sophy hissed in annoyance. ‘My lovely Clive from Clive’s Closet where I worked in Sydney.’
‘Oh, that Clive,’ Phoebe said in an offhand way because she was still feeling very fragile and if Sophy started wanging on about her glory days at Clive’s Closet, then it would finish her off. ‘Well, I appreciate the solidarity.’
She sat bookended by Sophy and Bea for a few more minutes to watch some more stitched videos, until Anita clapped her hands. ‘Please!’ she said with annoyance. ‘It’s half an hour since we closed. What the hell are we still doing here?’
‘Yes, can we go now, please?’ Cress asked from where she was standing by the door still with her coat on.
‘You’re free to go,’ Phoebe said, as she took Coco off her lap and placed her on the floor. ‘You didn’t need to stay.’
‘Oh, I’m having a sleepover at Sophy and Anita’s,’ Cress said, gesturing to the very laden tote bag slung over her shoulder.
‘We still ordering a curry?’ Anita asked as Phoebe stood up and winced as her feet protested. ‘’Cause I’m feeling more in the mood for some Korean fried chicken.’
‘Are you not seeing Miles or Charles?’ Phoebe asked.
The thought of Korean fried chicken was quite appetising.
She’d have to look on Deliveroo to see if there was somewhere close that delivered though the drivers never wanted to come down to the canal path so Phoebe always had to loiter on the street and wait for them.
‘We are strong independent women who don’t see our boyfriends every night,’ Sophy said from the depths of the back of the shop where she was collecting her bag and coat.
‘Also, Miles has gone up to Glasgow to do some location scouting and Charles is staying overnight in Dorset as he has an estate sale first thing tomorrow,’ Cress explained. She smiled faintly. ‘But yes, also we are strong independent women and Anita is between partners . . .’
‘Is it my fault that the men of London can’t recognise a good thing when they see it?’ Anita asked as she did a little shimmy.
‘While I am terminally single,’ Bea complained. ‘I can’t even remember the last time I swiped right.’
‘What about you, Pheebs? Are you seeing anyone?’ Anita asked, her eyes alight not with mischief this time but with curiosity. ‘Your life outside the shop is a bit of a mystery.’
Which was just how Phoebe liked it. For one agonising moment, her eyes met Cress, who was the only one who’d known about her and Freddy back when there was something to know.
Usually Cress told Sophy everything and since their argument, Phoebe wasn’t sure if Cress had kept the secret that she’d begged her to keep.
Cress shook her head and rolled her eyes a little as if to say that she was offended that Phoebe would even think that she’d betrayed that confidence.
‘There’s nothing much to tell,’ Phoebe said with a forced sort of lightness. ‘No man. I just go home and catalogue my vintage dresses.’
‘I’ve asked once, I’m going to ask again,’ Anita said as Sophy emerged with not just her coat but Phoebe’s too and even Coco’s. Phoebe shot her a grateful smile. ‘Your house is on fire. You can only rescue one thing. Is it Coco Chanel or your favourite vintage dress?’
Her favourite vintage dress was worth a good couple of thousand pounds but to Phoebe it was much more precious than just its monetary value. And maybe Coco Chanel might be able to rescue herself . . .
‘Seriously, Phoebe, do you have to think about it? Of course it would be Coco,’ Bea exclaimed. ‘By the way, are you planning to set the alarm before we leave?’
‘Oh God, yes! Thank you for reminding me.’
By the time Phoebe had set the alarm, she’d have expected the four women to have dispersed, but they were standing outside the shop in a huddle, talking in fierce whispers.
‘Haven’t you got homes to go to?’ Phoebe said with the same forced jollity from before.
Sophy separated herself from the huddle and with a swift glance back at her three colleagues tilted her chin in Phoebe’s direction. ‘Bea’s coming back to ours too.’ She paused. ‘If you haven’t got plans then you and Coco are welcome to join us.’
Immediately, reflexively, Phoebe opened her mouth to decline the invitation but then she shut it.
There was no good reason not to accept. Unless they were just asking her to be polite?
Except Anita never did anything just to be polite and what was the alternative anyway?
She’d go home, still mildly hungover, and she wouldn’t eat delicious fried chicken but brood and be miserable. It was no way to spend a Saturday evening.
So, Phoebe nodded. ‘Yes, Coco and I would love to.’