The Birds and the Bees(26)

‘The shoes and the veil haven't been altered though,' said Stevie bravely.

‘Yes, but they've still been sold to you. Oh dear, it is sad.'

Obviously not sad enough, though.

‘Is that really your best offer?' said Stevie, suspecting it probably was. ‘It's cost me a small fortune.'

‘I'd make him pay for it,' said Ros, still dreadfully sympathetic.

‘Alas, that isn't an option,' said Stevie stiffly. Matthew hadn't  contributed a penny towards the wedding and was swanning around in the  seven hundred quid suit she had bought for him, not counting the shoes.  Why hadn't she made him stump up? Why was she so stupidly unsparing?

‘I'm afraid that really is my best offer,' said Ros, as if it embarrassed her terribly to say so.

‘Okay,' said Stevie resignedly. ‘Can I bring the dress and other stuff in today?'

‘Yes, of course,' said Ros. ‘I totally understand how you'll want it out  of sight. Oh, it is such a shame, I am so sorry,' and she sounded it  too. Sorry enough almost to cry, but not sorry enough to barter.

‘Thank you for your help then,' said Stevie.

‘A pleasure,' said Ros with a voice as soft and as sweet as June rose  petals, belying a heart that was as soft and sweet as a concrete block.

Stevie decided not to make the other calls before getting rid of the  dress and all the accessories that ‘Kiss the Bride' supplied. She threw  them all straight into the back of her car and headed into town, finding  a parking space not too far away. There was an embarrassing walk  through the arcade to the shop, as if everyone she passed knew she was  taking the stuff back because she had been rejected for someone prettier  with longer legs and who was no doubt better in bed as well.                       
       
           



       

Ros was dressing a dummy with a pageboy's outfit when she walked in. A little Scots boy with a kilt, wouldn't you just know it.

The ‘poor you' look she gave Stevie when she entered the shop and set the bell tinkling, sent tears flooding up to her eyes.

‘Aw, my dear,' said Ros. ‘Come and sit down, whilst I check the dress over.'

It was amazing how cold and warm someone could be at the same time.

Satisfied that the dress hadn't been worn and that all the accessories  were as perfect as Stevie had described, Ros wrote a cheque for exactly  40 per cent of the amount on the receipt. Right down to the twenty-four  pence.

‘Well, if it's any consolation, you'll have all this excitement of  picking another dress one day, I'm sure of it, dear,' said Ros with a  big summery smile. ‘He's a mad fool, but then they all are. Men.'

‘Thank you, Ros,' said Stevie.

‘I'm sorry I couldn't help more.'

‘It's okay,' said Stevie, who found she was actually so relieved to have  the stuff out of the house that in the end, she would have taken less  if pushed. Not that she would voice that to Ros. She would need all the  money she could get to pay Adam MacLean for living in the cottage.

‘Have you had to cancel everything then?'

‘No, I thought I'd keep the cake and flowers for a laugh,' she almost  wanted to scream, but instead she answered calmly, ‘Well, no. I've got  that delightful task in front of me. You were first on my list.'

‘Aw, I hope you have a friend there to help you. It's not something you'd want to do without support, is it?'

‘No,' said Stevie with a loaded sigh, wondering how much support she  would get from her mother, who was next on her list to ring.



‘Good job I haven't bought my outfit yet then,' said Edna Honeywell with a big sniff. ‘Anyway, I never liked him.'

‘That's a lie, Mum – you said he was nice.'

‘Too good-looking. You'd never have kept him.'

Thanks.

‘He's not gone for good, Mum. We're just having a short break.'

‘So what's she like?' Edna went on, not hearing what Stevie was telling her. ‘I presume there is someone else.'

‘There's no one else, Mum. We just want to be sure so we're putting the  wedding off for a bit,' said Stevie, thrown off-kilter by her mother's  powers of perception. She didn't want her parents knowing what the  situation really was, because she knew this storm would blow over and  she and Matthew would end up getting married later. Positive thoughts  like this kept her spirits buoyant. It was crazy but somehow she knew he  would come home to her heart again. This was merely a temporary glitch  in the greater scheme of things, albeit a massive temporary glitch.

‘There will be another woman, mark my words,' said Edna. ‘They don't  leave unless they've sniffed another bitch. Have you told him yet?'

‘I'm going to ring Dad next. Will you let Auntie Rita know?'

‘Yes I'll let our Rita know but I'll have to get off the phone soon, I was just on my way out.'

‘Oh, going anywhere nice?' asked Stevie with a hopeful attempt at continuing the conversation for just a little longer.

‘I've got a Salsa class at half-past.'

Stevie might have known. Her mother always did have a class on the go.  She had been doing Great Female Poets during pregnancy and fallen in  love with Stevie Smith's work, hence the choice of name for her  daughter. Luckily the Greek Legends course had been cancelled otherwise  Stevie would now be living life as Aphrodite Hera Honeywell.

‘Okay, mum, I won't keep you.'

‘Well, anyway, I'm sorry for you, lass. It can't be easy.'

‘It isn't easy. Danny's fine, by the way.'

‘I was just going to ask!' snapped Edna. ‘I don't know, you can cause an  argument in an empty house, can't you?' she continued. ‘No wonder your  fella buggered off.'

Stevie ended the call politely before it degenerated into all the other  conversations they had, where she ended up feeling surplus to  requirements. Edna Honeywell made Ros's heart look like a goosedown  pillow.



Stevie told her dad that she and Matthew had decided to take some time  apart and re-think things through. She gave him her new address.

‘Nay, lass, never,' said Jack Honeywell, strangely drawing the same  conclusion as her mother. ‘He wants shooting. Can't keep it in their  trousers, some lads,' which was rich, considering he had kept it well  out of his trousers when he left her mum for Thick Neck. Then he cheated  on Thick Neck for Cyclops, who lost her left eye in a fight years ago  after being biffed in it with a bingo dabber. Neither woman had felt the  slightest obligation to welcome Stevie into the step-family fold.                       
       
           



       

‘Are you all right? Are you coping?' he asked solicitously.

‘I'm fine, Dad. I've moved out. Danny's fine too by the way.'

‘Good, give him a big kiss from his granddad. I nearly called in last  week. We were passing coming from Thelma's (Cyclops's) son's house. Good  job we didn't, if you'd moved.'

‘I only moved last night.'

‘Oh.'

Stevie finished the conversation before it ended up like all the other  calls to her dad, which made her feel insignificant and second-best to  her step-family, and that if it weren't for the connection of blood,  there would be no connection at all.



Next was the cake woman.

‘I've already made the fruit cakes in the hexagonals you wanted. I'll  have to keep the deposit and just not charge you for the icing,' she  said grumpily.

‘Thank you,' said Stevie, who didn't feel up for a fight. Was she just  being ultra-sensitive, or was the world really such a hard, bitter  place, she wondered. Did people think she was doing this for a joke,  organizing a wedding and then cancelling it because there was nothing  good on the telly? The wedding world was far more cold hard cash than it  was warm hearts and flowers. Talking of which, the florist was next  call. Thank God for gay male florists.

‘Oh, you poor darling,' said Donny Badger before spitting, ‘Bastard!'  like an irate cobra. If she had gone into the shop in person, she had no  doubt he would have taken her in the back room and be plying her with  biscuits and tissues by now, which might have been rather lovely because  she so badly wanted someone to be nice to her. It was slightly  disconcerting, the way everyone assumed she had been traded in for a  better model. There seemed to be an awful lot of sceptics in the world.  Maybe that's why her Midnight Moon books did so well, because her heroes  and heroines were honourable and faithful and didn't hurt each other.  True fantasy then. Stevie didn't want to turn into a hard-bitten cynic  who didn't believe in love in real life any more. However, it was  looking more and more as if any love that existed out there was never  going to be for her.