I knew better than to push it. Mel had always been a little prickly about money.
‘Okay. But if you should change your mind...’
She squeezed my hand. ‘Just the fact that you’ve offered means more to me than you could know.’ She gave me a slow smile.
‘What?’ I asked, feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny.
‘It’s just good to have you back again.’
We looked at each other, and suddenly we were the same two girls who’d met on the first day of university, who’d known in that moment that they’d found a friend for life.
‘Okay,’ Mel declared, her sunny disposition firmly back in place. ‘Let’s go get you a knock-out dress that’ll make that gorgeous man – the one who isn’t taking you on a date – reconsider this whole “just good friends” thing.’
We found it in the very next shop. It was a small boutique tucked away at the far end of a cobbled alleyway. Stepping beneath the wrought-iron archway felt like entering a secret passageway. There were two exclusive jewellery shops, an art gallery with a single ceramic vase in its window, and a shop with designer shoes that could easily have drained my entire bank account.
‘You know that scene in Pretty Woman?’ I murmured to Mel, who was insistently tugging me towards the dress shop tucked away in the corner. ‘The one where she’s looked down on by the shop assistant?’ Mel pushed open the door of the shop and a bell chimed above our heads. ‘Prepare to watch it re-enacted in real life,’ I whispered.
‘Shh,’ Mel hissed, smiling widely at the woman behind the counter. ‘I have a good feeling about this place.’
‘Another one?’ I teased, but I allowed her to propel me farther into the shop.
I’d been right. Every price tag made me wince. I was about to suggest a hasty exit when I spotted a solitary rail at the back of the shop with a Sale sign.
The dress was in the middle of the rack, its sequins catching the sunlight shafting through the shop window. I followed a sunbeam tothe rail while Mel continued to browse by the door. I was smiling as I plucked the hanger from the rail. Even before I released the garment from its neighbours or checked the size on the label, I knew this was the dress I’d be wearing on my ‘definitely not a date’ with Rhys.
The changing room was nothing more than a tiny curtained-off section at the back of the shop. There wasn’t even a mirror, but I didn’t need one to know the dress was a perfect fit. From the front it was decorous, almost modest, with a halter neckline that came up to my throat in a collared band. But the back... well, basically there wasn’t one. I’d slipped off my bra to get a better idea of just how risquéit was. Pretty daring, as it turned out, with the material falling in a loose swathe at the small of my back, almost – but not quite – revealing the colour of the briefs I’d put on that morning. The fabric fell to the ground like a sparkling waterfall, close-fitting and slinky. Without the slit that ran from the hem up to the back of my knees, walking would have been a real challenge. There was something about the blue-black sequins that reminded me of the highlights the sun picked out in Rhys’s dark hair. They shimmered as I walked, making me look like a mermaid.
‘Oh my God, Ellie. That dress could have been made for you. You look amazing.’
Mel’s enthusiastic response made me forget my limited budget or even try to cheekily bargain over the price. Estate agents are known for their love of haggling – it’s practically in our DNA – but buying this dress had been a foregone conclusion even before I’d known how incredible it would look on my body.
I was proud of the way I didn’t even grimace when I slid my credit card across the counter five minutes later. I’d have to sell an extraordinary number of properties in the next few months to justify this extravagance, but when the glossy cardboard carrier was passed to me, I knew it was worth it.
Chapter Nineteen
I thought at first that someone had fallen over or collapsed in the heat of the day. Then it occurred to me that the figure I could see slumped and immobile in the distance was horribly still and might not be conscious. My heart began to pound as I quickened my pace and broke into a run, already pulling my mobile from my pocket to summon help. It sounded like the punchline from a very tasteless joke, but I guess, by the law of averages, some people really did pass away in cemeteries.
But thankfully not today.
With the pounding of my Nikes announcing my arrival, I approached the figure and realised with relief that they weren’t actually face-down in the dirt but were hunched over beside my mother’s grave. On hearing me, they straightened up and sat back onto their knees.
A hand, protected by a gardening glove, lifted to the man’s eyes to shield them from the afternoon sunlight. In the other he held a handful of weeds.
‘Henry? What are you doing?’
The older man looked truly thrown at seeing me, as though I was the interloper at my mother’s resting place and not him. He looked so confused, as though he didn’t know who I was, and I tooka step to one side so he didn’t have to stare directly into the glare of sunlight to see me.
‘Oh, Ellie, it’s you.’
I’m not exactly sure who else he might have been expecting. The hand that was grasping the weeds let them fall to the ground and he peeled off the glove. His fingers were trembling.
‘Are you alright, Henry? You look a little pasty.’
I hoped he’d forgive the impertinence, but in truth his complexion looked decidedly waxy and was now the colour of rancid butter.
‘No. I’m absolutely fine,’ he said, getting to his feet with an ease that belied his years. ‘You just startled me for a moment.’
‘That seems to happen a lot on this spot,’ I said, remembering this was exactly how I’d met him several weeks earlier.