Mother of the Bride (12 page)

‘These are from my latest collection, but often a bride will like a detail from one dress or the skirt from another. My job is to create what she wants.' She smiled. ‘We have a range of samples of the designs here for clients to try on, and then when you find one that you like I can make it up to your exact requirements in whatever material, trim or length you decide.'

Amy was impressed, and, looking at a girl trying on a ballet length champagne-coloured wedding dress on the far side of the studio, itched to try on something herself.

Judith helped her pick out a few designs, each one totally different from the other.

Even as Amy put on the first dress she felt a quiver of excitement. As Judith guided it over her head and shoulders the soft satin material clung to her frame smoothly. The top was beautifully fitted and slightly boned, with a classic round neck, while the skirt fell softly from her waist with a tiny bow detail. It was absolutely stunning. Different from anything she had seen, it seemed to emphasize her dark eyes.

‘Audrey Hepburn was the inspiration for this.' Judith grinned, as she slipped a crystal bow of pure white, with a small section of veil, on to Amy's head.

Amy's brown hair looked wonderful against the almost perfect white of the dress. Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from behind the lush purple and cream curtains.

‘Oh!' said her mum, her eyes welling up again.

‘Wow!' said Ciara, suddenly paying attention. ‘You look amazing in that dress.'

‘Oh, Amy, you look so beautiful. It's just you!' Jess gasped.

Amy could see she was getting envious glances from the two other girls trying on.

‘Do you really like it?' she begged, staring at herself in the mirror.

‘It's just fabulous.'

‘You look like a film star.'

‘Dan will fall in love with you all over again when he sees you in that dress,' insisted Jess.

Amy tried on three or more of Judith's designs. A ballet-style one in a soft cream colour with a frill was stunning, and different, too, but it was the bow dress she kept thinking of, and longing to put back on again.

She had stolen a look at the price tag. It was expensive – but only half the price of the Vera Wang one!

‘Try it on again!' urged Ciara.

Amy didn't need much urging, and she slipped into the dress as
if it was made for her. Silently, in the fitting room, she stared at herself, knowing that this was it. This was the dress she wanted more than anything.

‘Amy, you have to buy this one,' her mum said as she stepped out. ‘It's just made for you.'

‘It is truly perfect on you.' Judith smiled, checking the dress and running her hands down over the fit of it. ‘I'd suggest maybe increasing the size of this bow a little and perhaps narrowing the shoulders, as they are a bit too wide. Also, if we lower this drop at the back a fraction it will have slightly more impact. The waist is perfect, and the dress itself looks so good on you.'

Ciara was biting her lip like she did when she was excited and going to cry, and Jess had a dreamy expression on her face.

‘It's the one!'

‘Definitely.'

‘Amy, do you want this dress?' asked her mum, suddenly serious.

Amy knew that there was no other dress in the world that she could get married in. ‘Yes,' she nodded, ‘this is “the dress”.'

‘Then we're buying it,' said Helen O'Connor decisively.

The dress cost far more than Amy had planned to spend, and Judith refused to budge on the price, explaining that it was an original design, and that a huge amount of work would now go into making it. She couldn't reduce the price of the dress, but agreed that she would throw in the headpiece as the two had been designed to go together.

Amy felt like hugging Judith, as she had budgeted separately for a veil and headpiece. She watched as Helen took out her credit card and insisted on paying,

‘Mum, are you sure about this? It's so much money. I can pay for it myself.'

‘Your dad and I are paying for the wedding, and there would be no wedding without a dress!' Helen laughed.

‘Thanks, Mum, you and Dad are the best!' said Amy, hugging her.

‘Mum, do you think we could get Judith to make our bridesmaid dresses, too?' Ciara asked. ‘I'm sure she could design something not too conventional for us.'

‘Do you want me to go bankrupt?'

‘I just thought it might save a bit of hassle and be kind of different.'

‘We are not discussing bridesmaid dresses today,' said Helen O'Connor firmly. She had heard so many horror stories about the awful search to find bridesmaid dresses that she was dreading it.

‘Let's have a bite of lunch to celebrate!' suggested Amy, leading them up to The Unicorn on Merrion Row. She couldn't believe it! She'd ordered her wedding dress. Amy had imagined it taking weeks or months to find the perfect one and couldn't believe how simple it had been. Jill in work had gone to New York to get her dress, and Sarah had taken five months to find hers and been up and down the country like a yo-yo! Yet Amy's had been hanging in Judith Deveraux's just waiting for her. It was fate! It certainly deserved a celebration so they ordered some wine and the pasta house special.

‘To the beautiful bride!' toasted her mum.

‘To the most stunning wedding dress ever!' Jess grinned, clinking glasses with her.

Ciara O'Connor had finally worked up the courage to go to Pete's tattoo parlour. She was terrified, and didn't want to tell Jay in case at the last minute she backed out and didn't go through with it. Dead nervous going on her own, she asked Dara Brennan, her best friend, to come along for moral support. They'd grown up a few doors away from each other, and with his mum, Fran, and her mum being best friends they were constantly thrown together as kids. Dara was studying computer science at UCD and was one mega computer-geek. Some people thought that he was weird, but to Ciara he was the funniest, craziest guy she knew. He still texted and Facebooked her every night before she went to sleep.

‘Are you sure you want to do this?' Dara asked, concerned.

‘Yes, a hundred per cent, but I just don't want to go in there on my own, in case I faint or something.'

They had arranged to meet in The Gutter Bookshop on Cow's Lane – Dara was engrossed in some computer expert's new book on chaos and global warming.

She wore her worst baggy jeans and a dark T-shirt, and six-foot Dara, with his kind face, held her hand. She closed her eyes as Pete set to work, tattooing a small blue-green dragonfly with pink tinged
wings on her hip. It was like being at the dentist, and she was terrified and couldn't wait for it to be over. Pete, when he finished, proudly showed her the tattoo in a mirror. It did look kind of cool, and Ciara was glad that she had had it done. Dara bought her a reviving pizza and beer in The Bad Ass Café as a reward for being so brave.

Jay kissed and stroked the dragonfly, watching the undulation of her skin as she moved and the tattoo seemed to come to life.

‘It's perfect,' he said. Ciara knew that the dragonfly was a sign of just how much he meant to her.

She had worked her ass off all over Christmas and New Year in Danger Dan's, because she was saving to go to Thailand in the summer and also to buy Amy and Dan a wedding present. Henry had let two of the temporary staff go, and it was hectic dealing with customers and making constant trips up and down to their tiny stockroom for boxes of comics. A new X-Men movie had opened, and everyone wanted to get superhero comics; the stuff was literally flying out the door. In January Henry had ordered more stock from the US, and was constantly phoning to see when it would arrive. Writing comic books was definitely the way to go, and Ciara planned to start one of her own. She told Jay, expecting him to be excited and encouraging, as he was such a great writer himself. She was gutted by his response, which was crushing.

‘Ciara, don't tell me you think you are going to be the new Stan Lee!'

‘I'm just going to have a try.' She laughed. ‘For fun!'

She told him about going to Thailand, too, imagining the two of them travelling in Asia together.

‘You go with your college friends; it's what girls your age do!'

She hated it when Jay treated her like a kid and acted so superior.

At night they went out less and less, watching DVD after DVD.
Jay told her that his hours in the call centre had been reduced and there was talk of redundancies.

‘What will you do?' she asked.

‘I'll get by.' He shushed her, saying things would work out as he was involved in some new experimental drama project with Feargal. ‘We're rehearsing and going to put it on in the theatre in Tallaght, and then we are hoping to take it to the Edinburgh Festival.'

One afternoon, when a lecture had been cancelled, Ciara decided to surprise him, getting the bus to Rathmines in the afternoon and racing up the stairs of the tall red-bricked house to his second-floor apartment. Jay was strangely reluctant to let her in, telling her that he was busy and that he'd phone her later. Why she did it she didn't know, but she sat on the stairs of the first-floor landing, waiting. Waiting for him, perhaps, but instead seeing the petite girl with long dark hair and ribbed purple leggings who emerged from his room hours later. She heard them kiss and say goodbye, and sat rigid like a statue on the stair as the girl passed her by.

She wanted to go and knock at his door and shout at him, scream at him. Call him names and curse him. But instead she stayed silent, looking out of the tall window on the landing until darkness fell.

At home she stayed in bed for nearly five days, telling her mum and dad that she was sick. Helen had fussed and worried about her having the flu. She plied Ciara with hot lemon drinks and tea and toast and tissues, asking her constantly if she was feeling OK, when she clearly wasn't. Ciara felt wretched and weak and sick to her soul, angry with herself for being so stupid. She felt like she had been under a spell, and suddenly it had been broken. Dara told her on Facebook that she was going to be OK, and called Jay every bad name he could think of.

Jay phoned her twice but she lied that she was too busy with college work to see him.

She saw him in the street a few times later. Once, he was with Fergal, and a couple of times with the girl. The girl with the purple leggings was holding his hand, entranced the way Ciara had been, and Ciara wondered if she had got a tattoo, too.

Amy checked her lipstick and hair quickly in the car mirror as Dan pulled up outside his parents' house in the road of sturdy red-bricked Edwardian homes. The Quinns had done well buying the house in Rathgar with its five bedrooms and large garden over twenty-five years ago. It must have been a great place for Dan and his two brothers to grow up.

‘Don't forget the wine!' she warned Dan, as she lifted the box of expensive hand-made chocolates she had brought for his mother from the back seat.

Walking up the driveway, she noticed the immaculate lawn skirted by a border of neatly pruned bushes and shrubs. There was a pretty display of snowdrops and spring crocuses pushing through the soil.

‘Dan, do I look OK?' she asked nervously as they waited at the front door.

‘You look gorgeous,' he said approvingly, taking in the short cream skirt and jacket and the black tights and leather boots she was wearing.

Amy knew it was stupid to be worrying about her future-in-laws but she couldn't help herself. Carmel Quinn was the type of person to notice everything and make a comment on it afterwards.
She didn't want to give her mother-in-law-to-be any opportunity to criticize her.

‘Dan, my boy, and Amy, welcome!' Eddie Quinn enthused, opening the door for them. ‘Carmel's in the kitchen, cooking, and I've just opened a very nice Merlot.'

‘Good timing, then.' Dan grinned, hugging his dad.

Amy liked seeing how affectionate Dan and his father were with each other. Though Dan might be taller and broader on the shoulders than Eddie they both got on well with people and were slow to let anything or anyone aggravate or annoy them.

Amy hung up her jacket and trooped down through the hall to the large kitchen-cum-dining-area. The huge oak table was set for lunch for seven and Dan's brother Dylan was sitting in a chair in the window, engrossed in the sports section of the Sunday paper.

‘Hey, Amy!' he mumbled, barely lifting his head from the page to acknowledge her. His brother Rob gave her a kiss.

‘Amy, dear, you look lovely!' greeted Carmel, rushing over to hug her.

A waft of Carmel's strong perfume filled the air as Amy took in Carmel's immaculately fitted beige trousers, crisp white blouse and pale-pink cashmere cardigan. Her nails and hair and make-up were flawless. Even when cooking she was always perfectly groomed! She often made Amy feel hopelessly untidy.

‘Carmel, the table looks great and the food smells delish.'

‘It's just Sunday lunch!' The older woman smiled, as if she was simply used to a certain level of perfection. ‘I've done a traditional baked ham with mustard and honey, and a rhubarb crumble for dessert. It's one of the boy's favourites.'

‘Amy, here's a glass of wine!' insisted Eddie, passing her a glass of red. ‘It's from a lovely little vineyard Carmel and I visited last year. Liz, will you have another one, too?' Carmel's older sister Liz was joining them for lunch. She was about sixty-five and had never married. She had just retired from a job in the Department of
Finance and had great plans to travel and see the world. A regular visitor to the house in Orwell Road, she had been a stalwart help to Carmel and Eddie as the boys had grown up. Amy knew that Dan adored his Aunt Liz, and considered her great fun and one of the few people able to manage his mother.

‘Well, I won't say no to such a lovely vintage.' Liz laughed as she rinsed spinach leaves at the sink.