Mother of the Bride (11 page)

Tara and Aisling were messing about with a board, neither of them managing to stay up for more than a few seconds. The rest of the crowd had already legged it to McDaniel's, the local pub, and were nursing pints and hot ports there. Feeling her teeth start to
chatter, Amy began to walk back to the car, Tara and Aisling running to join her.

‘We're fffrrreeezzzinng!' they both said, wrapping themselves in towels before stripping out of their suits and tugging on fleeces and jeans and big woollen socks.

‘Attractive!' Aisling laughed, pulling on a wool hat, too.

‘Let's go back to the house and warm up,' suggested Amy. ‘We can heat up some soup in the microwave and there's soda bread there, too. The lads will give us a shout when they are ready for home.'

The small holiday cottage was warm, and they sat down in front of the fire. From the window they could just about see where the guys were, and Amy put on the soup for them and threw a few more logs on the fire.

‘God, I'm so glad I came,' Tara said. ‘It beats me sitting at home while Johnny goes to Edinburgh with his friends. I'd probably just have gone out tonight to some club and had a crap time.'

‘I wish that Jess had come,' said Aisling. ‘I thought that she was all up for it, and then she just goes and stays at home.'

‘I don't know what's happening with her,' worried Amy. ‘She's been acting funny since before Christmas. I'll phone her later.'

Amy, to her surprise, was really enjoying the break from Dublin. They had driven up to Donegal yesterday, a massive drive, but Dan and the guys had still insisted on getting out on their boards when they arrived, even though it was late and the light was fading. They had cooked a huge pot of chicken curry afterwards, and sat in, drinking and chatting and playing music all night. It had been great, and everyone had got up mid-morning to go to the beach or up by the cliffs.

Amy took a second bowl of the warming vegetable soup, all the time keeping an eye on the water and waves.

Tonight they had booked a big table for fourteen in Farraige, the restaurant at the edge of the town. Drinks in McDaniel's first,
then New Year's Eve dinner in the restaurant, which had got a great write-up in the
Good Food Guide
. She couldn't wait.

The meal had been superb and Farraige had certainly proved that it deserved its reputation.

‘If this place was in Dublin we'd be there every weekend,' said Jeremy, heartbroken that his new favourite restaurant was so far away. The table was littered with wine glasses and beer bottles as they began the big countdown to midnight, Amy clutching Dan's hand in hers.

At twelve o'clock the place went crazy, with everyone shouting and singing and wishing each other: ‘Happy New Year! Happy New Year.'

‘This is going to be our year,' Dan promised, kissing Amy. ‘We've the wedding, and then I think we should think about buying a house.'

Amy, a little bit tipsy, threw her arms around him. The wedding! A house! It was going be a great year.

Jamie grabbed her to hug her, and Liam kissed her, and Aisling hugged her tight, all tearful at the thought that Amy wouldn't be single much longer.

It was 3 a.m. before they finally left the restaurant, Amy and Dan excited at all that the future held for them.

The next day they straggled to the beach. It was wet, but that didn't deter the diehards, and Amy watched snug in her rain gear as Dan and Liam and most of the lads enjoyed themselves. Kim White, Conor's girlfriend, fearlessly took in a huge run on her board despite the conditions, to cheers from everyone. The rest of the time was spent in McDaniel's, where they stayed eating and drinking for the rest of the night.

As they packed up the next morning and prepared to leave the cottage, Amy realized that she hadn't once opened the laptop she
had brought with her. She had been full of good intentions to go through some wedding things, but just hadn't bothered. She had so much to do. The wedding was only five months away, and her first priority was to get her wedding dress. She'd looked in a few places, but now it was time to make a decision.

‘It's beautiful here,' said Dan, wistfully taking a last glance around at the magnificent scenery as he packed their boards on the roof rack. ‘I'm going to miss this.'

‘Me too,' said Amy, giving him a hug and realizing that she genuinely meant it, and had enjoyed the break far more than she had expected.

The two of them were silent as they started the car and headed for home.

Ever since she was a little girl Amy O'Connor had had a vision in her head of the kind of dress she wanted to wear on her wedding day as she floated up the aisle on her dad's arm and glided back down on her husband's. She wanted a dress that would make her feel very special, and that was classic and pretty and feminine. A wedding dress that she would be proud to be photographed in and to be reminded of every day of her life, as she looked at the photo in a silver frame and her wedding album.

As a teenager she had covered reams of notebooks and drawing pads with silly sketches and doodles of ‘the dress', but now that the time had actually come to buy it she was nervous and in a quandary. What if she got it wrong! Picked the wrong one!

‘That's not going to happen,' reassured Jess. ‘My sister Ava said she knew the minute she pulled on her dress in the fitting room that it was the right one. She said it was like magic, and that she didn't even want to take it off or give it to the lady in the shop to have it altered and taken up, because she loved it so much.'

Amy had spent the past few weeks browsing the internet, looking at magazines, and scanning rails of dresses as she refined the search for the perfect wedding dress to a handful of bridal shops.

Her mum, and Jess, and a reluctant Ciara, had been roped in to join the search for the perfect wedding dress, and Amy had made appointments in four places.

‘You have to make an appointment to go and spend a fortune on a dress! It's mad,' said Ciara. ‘Bloody mad!'

Amy had to agree. She had always stupidly imagined that you could just walk into a bridal shop, try on a dress, fall in love with it and buy it there and then. She had never imagined that viewing dresses at these shops was by appointment only, and that even if you were having an early summer wedding many of them put you on a waiting list for a few weeks before they'd even see you. Anyhow, she had finally managed to get appointments that Saturday with four bridal specialists.

‘We're going to four shops!' protested Ciara. ‘What a waste of a Saturday!'

‘Ciara!' warned their mother. ‘Choosing her wedding dress is very important for your sister. Honestly, you and Amy will always remember this day in the future.'

‘I'm sure I will.' Ciara grimaced. ‘I could be asleep in bed or studying for my exams.'

‘The exams can wait this once,' Helen O'Connor said. ‘They're not for another few months, and if you are that concerned you can study tonight, instead of going out.'

‘Thanks, sis!'

‘Well, I wouldn't miss it for the world.' Jess laughed.

They started off in the inner sanctum of the most expensive store in Dublin, Brown Thomas, looking at the American designer Vera Wang's selection of wedding gowns. They cost a fortune, but certainly had the ‘wow' factor – and of course the ‘wow' price. Amy picked out three she really liked and, at the insistence of the ultra chic ‘wedding advisor', two more designs.

‘Everything will be made to your exact measurements, so don't
worry if a dress is too small or large or too long,' the sales lady soothed.

Amy loved the traditional full Vera Wang design, and felt like she was stepping out of a film set as she spun around to show the others outside the fitting room.

‘Oh, Amy pet, you look so lovely.' Helen O'Connor's eyes filled with tears as she groped for a hankie in her bag, and tried to control her emotions. ‘Doesn't she?'

‘Beautiful,' agreed Jess.

‘Nice but a bit old-fashioned,' said Ciara. ‘Bit too Disney-princess-looking!'

‘Ciara!' warned Helen.

‘You asked me for my opinion, and I'm giving it,' Amy's sister retorted candidly.

Amy knew the one thing she could always depend on from Ciara was the truth, even if it was painful.

‘It's a beautiful dress, and it really suits you, but I'm sure you want to try a few more,' encouraged the sales lady as she helped Amy to change from one dress to another, lifting them over her head and carefully fastening the delicate buttons and bows.

Amy gasped when she saw the pale-cream fitted corset with its sparkle of crystals, and the soft flowing skirt that fell to the ground, showing off her figure and skin tone perfectly. She loved it!

So did all the others, and Amy was excited, thinking this could be it.

The next dress had a tiered skirt and a ruffle around a scoop neckline. The material was beautiful and it felt so comfortable as she looked at herself in the long mirrors from every angle. It was floaty and feminine, the kind of thing Dan would like.

‘No,' Jess said. ‘It's just not you, Amy!'

Then there was a satin sheath dress with a fishtail, that made her feel like a Hollywood star.

‘Great for a ball, but not for your wedding,' said Helen.

‘This dress I have here is a very special one,' said the sales assistant, producing the most amazing dress ever, which had a row of tie bows at the back of a fitted corset, and a beautiful classic swing skirt. ‘I think you should try it on.'

Amy stared at herself. What a dress! It was the kind of dress she had dreamed of. The line of the corset showed off her bust and shoulders perfectly, and the creamy white colour made her skin glow, and suited her light brown hair. She tried a simple veil with it, and felt like she could straight away walk out of the shop and down the aisle. It was exquisite.

Holding her breath, she stepped out of the fitting room, dying to see what the others thought about it.

‘Oh, Amy, I wish that your dad was here to see you in that dress.' Her mum sniffed. ‘You look so beautiful.'

‘Oh, Amy, it's gorgeous,' Jess added, equally entranced.

‘Perfect,' said Ciara.

It was perfect, the most perfect of all the dresses in the whole shop, but when Amy saw the price tag her face fell. No wonder the sales lady had brought it out with a flourish . . . it cost an absolute fortune, far more than she had planned to spend.

‘My God, this dress costs more than my car,' spluttered Helen O'Connor, who drove around in an ancient green Volvo.

‘The dress is lovely.' Jess sighed. ‘But it's so pricey for just one day!'

‘That's more than my student allowance for the whole year!' Ciara gasped, stunned.

Reluctantly Amy slipped back into the fitting room and let the lady help her take it off.

‘If you are interested in this number, it takes over four months for us to have it made and sent here in time for your wedding,' informed the assistant. ‘It is a beautiful dress, and on her wedding day a bride should wear the dress she wants!'

‘I do love it,' Amy admitted. ‘But I need to think about it.'

‘Of course.' The assistant smiled. ‘The dress is exquisite on you.'

Amy took the assistant's card as she redressed, and left the fitting room with a final goodbye glance at her dream dress.

In the Bridal Design Centre at the top of Powerscourt House, the old Georgian Mansion, just off Grafton Street, Amy spent half an hour picking out dresses to try on. The one she liked the most was slightly similar to her dream dress, though the fit was not quite as good and it was in a different material, which had a slight sheen to it.

‘Oh, it's lovely on you!' they all chorused, admiring her. ‘Really lovely!'

Amy considered herself in the gilt-edged mirror. She wanted more than lovely, she wanted stunning! Beautiful! And this was not it!

There was a very fitted Empire-line dress with long sleeves and incredible beading; it was beautiful but not really her style. There was a backless pure white silk, but she couldn't imagine walking up the aisle of the church in it.

Bored, Ciara was rooting around, looking at the collection of bridesmaid dresses that hung on one side of the shop.

‘Do I really have to wear something like this?' she complained, holding up a wine-coloured floor-length dress with a big bow.

‘Definitely,' teased Amy. ‘I love wine!'

Taking a break for coffee on Dawson Street, the four of them talked over what they had seen, Amy hoping that she would find a perfect dress that wouldn't break her bank account.

Their next port of call was Alexis, the busy bridal studio overlooking Stephen's Green, which was up about a mile of stairs and left them all panting as Amy disappeared to another fitting room to try on their selection.

Appearing in a swirl of lace, she gave a twirl.

‘Beautiful.' Her mum beamed. ‘Amy, you look beautiful in that one.'

‘The problem is that you look lovely in every dress,' declared Jess. ‘You are tall and slim and have a great figure and great skin so everything looks good on you. It makes it a lot harder to choose a perfect dress. The other girls trying dresses on look awful in some of them, but everything works on you. So we need to find something that is pretty amazing!'

The dresses were lovely, beautifully made, and were more realistic in price terms but there was nothing Amy fell in love with. She was beginning to get worried. No wonder brides went to London or Madrid or New York to get their dress. She had only one place left to go today.

Judith Deveraux, a new young bridal designer, was their final appointment. Her studio was in a basement in Merrion Square, and as they climbed down the stairs to her shop Amy noticed two other brides already busy trying clothes on.

The studio was small and there were only three fitting rooms. Judith, a small, petite redhead wearing a sage-green satin skirt and a black shirt, introduced herself and sat down with them for a few minutes to chat, passing them a portfolio of her designs.