‘I’ll tell you when to look,’ she told his back. ‘Rach, can you do the zip?’
It whizzed up nice and easy, the sheeny fabric hugging her waist and ribcage, her wavy hair tumbling onto her bare shoulders. She was gorgeous. Checking herself in the mirror, she pulled at her bra strap. ‘I’ll need a strapless bra.’
I’d never bothered with a bra at all. The early noughties had been a different time.
‘Dev,’ she said. ‘You can look now.’
He turned – and his jaw dropped slightly. ‘Kitten, you’re dope. Fire!’
‘Yeah?’ Her eyes were like stars. ‘It still needs … something?’
‘Scarf in your hair. Big messy hair and a scarf. And maybe stuff around your neck? Crosses?’
Despite his intrusive sex noises and his wasteful carry-on with the shower that morning last week, I was beginning to like Devin. Getting involved with his girlfriend’s look with such straightforward enthusiasm was admirable.
‘When did you wear this?’ Kate asked me.
‘To house parties, maybe fifteen years ago, after I’d got clean and moved back to New York. It was The Best Dress in The World.’
Flicking through the hangers in the wardrobe, every new item of clothing triggered memories of another life. Then my fingers landed on a pink slip dress, in slithery satin. I pulled it out, with its matching short fluffy cardigan and ridiculous little handbag.
‘Oh my God!’ I exclaimed. ‘I loved this outfit.’
‘Cute.’ Kate wasn’t really interested but I needed to talk about it.
‘I wore this at Johnno and Elaine’s wedding, around 2006. We’d been so short of money, I’d nothing to wear but Luke sold a record, a rare one –’
‘Which was?’ Devin asked.
‘A Led Zeppelin album …’ I was trying to remember. ‘Houses of the Holy? Limited Edition.’
‘Oi!’ Devin winced. ‘Serious.’
I laughed. ‘You’re too young to know about Led Zeppelin.’
‘With Luke as my uncle, I can’t escape.’ He shook his head. ‘Selling that must have hurt.’
‘Yeaaah.’ I was still a bit dreamy and starry-eyed. ‘I guess.’ I stroked the slippery fabric. ‘But I made it up to him.’
Emerging from my reverie, I noticed that both of them looked mildly mortified and I burst out laughing. Now they knew how I felt.
46
Rocking an expensive blow-dry, I dropped in on yet another committee meeting. Claire – who was there with Francesca and Molly, her stepdaughter – nodded approvingly at my ripped jeans and deceptively casual angora jumper.
‘You look …’ Helen’s head snapped up. ‘You’re stealth-glam.’
‘Have you the funny orange earrings on?’ Margaret sounded anxious. ‘Oh, you have. Well, ah …’
‘All of that effort because your ex-husband will be there?’ Seventeen-year-old Francesca was sodden with scorn. ‘Are you not a bit tragic?’
‘Absolutely not!’ Molly declared, kind and diplomatic. ‘She’s doing exactly the right thing. Also, Rachel, your trainers?’ She made her first finger and thumb into a circle. ‘Chef’s kiss.’
‘To be honest,’ I told Molly, ‘I am tragic. But it’s okay. Luke discarded me but there’s no need to behave like gone-off potato peelings.’
‘So, Rachel?’ Francesca interjected. ‘You’ve met this … Devin. What’s he like?’
My eyes flicked to Claire. ‘Yeah,’ she admitted. ‘I invited him to dinner next week.’
‘To meet the family.’ Francesca’s smile was frightening.
Helplessly I said to her, ‘I was going to ask you to be nice, but you won’t be, will you?’
She shook her head with another of those smiles.
‘I’ll be nice,’ Molly said.
‘We’re so lucky to have you,’ I said. ‘Right, I’m off to Luke’s dad’s birthday party.’
‘Just a minute now,’ Mum said. ‘If you’re going to Brian Costello’s birthday, can Luke come to mine?’
‘No!’ I was appalled at the idea. ‘No, no, no, no, no. Goodbye.’
To my chagrin, even though it was only three minutes past five, several cars were already parked on Justin and Sarina’s sizeable, cobble-locked drive. I rang the doorbell, which bellowed, ‘Intruder, intruder!’ followed by a wailing air-raid siren.