‘You could re-sell it. If you had your way, what type of a dress would you like? You loved the vintage one Lexi brought to the wedding fair, and the one you tried on at the shop. Your eyes sparkled when you saw that one.’
Cat glanced at Lexi, their gorgeous vintage-dressed waitress. ‘I’d adore a Fifties-style dress. I’ve always loved them. They’re so simple and stunning and elegant. That one of Lexi’s was perfect, and I’d only need a small net underneath so it poofs out a little bit. Did you see those cute pillbox hats she had on the table? The ones with the little veil? And the little gloves?’ Nell suddenly saw the dreamy, faraway look in Cat’s eyes she’d hoped for and called Lexi over.
‘Hey, ladies, what else can I get you?’
‘Lexi,’ Nell said, ‘Do you still have that wedding dress Cat loved from the wedding fair?’
Lexi’s eyes brightened with excitement. ‘I do. Are you interested, Cat? I thought your dress was all sorted.’
‘It is – I mean – it was. I’m making some last-minute changes and I’ve realised it’s not really me. Do you think that one of yours would fit me? And I’d love one of your little pillbox hats with a veil.’
Lexi’s trained eye roved over Cat, assessing her measurements.
‘I’ll pay for it,’ said Nell quickly.
‘No!’ Cat interrupted. ‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘I want to. You’re my best friend. It can be my wedding present to you. What do you think, Lexi?’
Lexi smiled and put her hands on her hips. ‘I reckon with a bit of tinkering it’ll fit you like a dream.’
‘Thank you so much, Lexi. You’re amazing.’
‘I finish work at one. Can you come over this afternoon and we’ll do a fitting? Looking at you though, I’m pretty positive it’ll only need minor adjustments to the top.’
Cat was bouncing in her seat with excitement and her eyes misted with tears again. Nell pushed the plate of cake back in front of her and, genuinely happy, Cat forked in a massive mouthful, and this time ate it with glee.
Chapter 22
Sunday afternoon, Tom stood outside the care home, trying his best to muster some courage and go in to see Grandad Nigel. Last night, after the party, he’d fallen off the kerb and twisted his ankle while marching home and if he ever needed a sign that he had to stop being such a wimp and tell his grandad what was happening, that was it. Now, facing the big white building, the front door decorated with a wreath he’d made them, he couldn’t help the anxiety weighing his body down. He didn’t want Grandad Nigel worrying about him, he didn’t want him thinking he wouldn’t be able to visit or pay for his care. He wanted Grandad Nigel to know he was safe and well and enjoy his later years.
Tom would have given anything to be able to delay this news until the New Year. Ideally, he’d never have to tell Nigel something like this at all, but his cards had been dealt and the sooner it was out the better. Who knew how much worse his sight would be in January? Fear almost strangled him as he prepared to ruin his grandad’s Christmas with bad news and worry. Tom didn’t normally feel the cold this much, but today, he couldn’t get warm and his teeth were almost chattering. The longer he stood there, the harder it became to move his legs and step inside. Giving himself an internal shake, he put one foot in front of the other and moved.
The wreaths hung high on the entrance corridor wall. Their pine scent filled the air along with cinnamon, cloves and dried apple. Tracey was on duty, as usual, and she bustled around behind the little office station at the other end of the TV room.
‘Hello, love,’ she said, when she saw him. ‘How’ve you been keeping?’
Difficult question. ‘Not too bad, thanks, Tracey,’ he lied. There was no point in telling her the truth just yet. He had to tell his grandad first.
‘Oh good. Nigel’s in the TV room with Edith.’
Tom slid his scarf from around his neck and his thick, heavy coat from his shoulders, hanging both over his arm. He ran a hand through his hair, and walked towards his grandad, nerves mounting with every step. Nigel and Edith were chatting away and Tom didn’t want to disturb the happy scene. Everything would change the moment he said the words and once he had, there was no going back. His grandad had a bright smile and his unseeing eyes shone. He seemed happy enough even though he was blind, but he was 87, and these sorts of things were to be expected at his age. It was different for Tom who had so much of his life ahead of him and longer to cope with being different and less able than other people. He hesitated. It was going to be so hard to say the words out loud, but he’d come this far.
‘Hey, Grandad. All right?’
Nigel spun his head towards the sound of Tom’s voice. ‘Tom, my boy. What’s wrong? You’re asking me if I’m all right, but I can tell from your voice you’re not.’ Even though his grandad couldn’t see him, Tom dropped his eyes.
‘There is something I need to talk to you about, if that’s okay?’
Fear flooded Nigel’s features. Edith patted his arm and stood. ‘I’ll leave you boys to it.’
‘Come on then, boy. You’d best sit down.’ Tom took the vacated seat, placing his coat and scarf next to him. The din from the giant TV had seemed so loud when he’d walked in, turned up high for those residents who were hard of hearing, but now,
