right. ‘It’s no good, I’m going to have to try on the Madi Lane dress again,’ Jess says disconsolately.
‘Which, the rose or the drape?’ asks Sophia.
‘Both,’ they say at the same time, then laugh.
Of course Jess looks gorgeous in each of the gowns, apart from a puffy dress with far too much ruching. They discard the meringue but they’re left with a huge pile of possible winners. ‘Which one feels like the one?’ asks Sophia.
‘I don’t know,’ ponders Jess. ‘This is such a big decision.’ To many it’s just a dress, but for Jess it means everything. She wants to be the centre of attention, just for once, to look and feel amazing. This is her wedding day and it’s got to be perfect.
‘Why don’t you try each of them again, this time with the shoes and the veil?’ suggests Val, hovering eagerly, refilling their champagne glasses with a generous hand, no doubt with the hope that a little inebriation might soften the sting of the high price tag for this particular collection. Having done so, however, she speedily trots off to replace the bottle in the back room; she doesn’t want them so tipsy they spill sparkling wine on the dresses.
Jess goes back into the changing room before reappearing in the rose dress. She looks beautiful but Sophia can sense she’s not in love with it. ‘Now the next,’ she says, idly flicking through a magazine. Something about one of the brides attracts her notice. She’s laughing, her long brown hair cascading down her back, and her cute husband is holding her hands and smiling into her eyes. The backdrop is of a stunning beach in the Maldives, or somewhere like it. Sophia swallows and quickly turns the page. She can’t get upset here, this is Jess’s time – but she can’t help thinking that this could have been her, if only …
‘Well, what do you think?’ Jess returns in the draped Madi Lane dress, the first one she ever tried on, funnily enough. It is breathtaking; layers of lace cascading down from the bodice showing off Jess’s figure to perfection. The finespun trim on her delicate veil is hovering gently on her shoulders, tiny gems sparkling in the shop lights like dewdrops. She looks stunning and this time she knows it.
‘So, do you have your answer?’ asks Val anxiously, sensing an imminent, highly lucrative sale is finally within tantalising reach.
‘I think we do.’ Jess smiles across at Sophia. ‘This is the one, I can just feel it.’
‘It’s perfect. I love it,’ agrees Sophia. ‘You look amazing and Zach is one incredibly lucky guy.’
‘I’ll make sure he knows it,’ Jess says with a laugh, swishing back into the changing room in a flurry of cream fabric.
Sophia goes back to her magazine, but the print blurs and swirls in front of her eyes.
‘Are you all right there, love?’ asks Val, taking the discarded dresses in her arms.
‘Yes, I’m fine,’ says Sophia with an attempt at a smile. She doesn’t feel fine; she feels a bit weird, a little out of it, even. Just like on that fateful day that changed everything. She had worked so hard; everything was all mapped out perfectly: her successful high-powered job, her future marriage to Ryan. And then in one brief episode, the course of her whole life had changed. Four minutes, that’s all it had taken – well, four minutes and thirty seconds to be precise. Because on that day, Sophia had suffered her first epileptic seizure.
It’s okay not to be okay – that’s what they say. And of course it’s true, but it’s a weird fact that in this world, sometimes you can feel alone even when you’re together.
Chapter 1
Sophia
‘This is totally ridiculous,’ I say, staring disconsolately at the row upon row of empty shelves, where the loo rolls should have been.
This is actually a crisis of epic proportions; shortage of toilet roll is a problem for the two of us in our flat at the best of times. We use it for pretty much everything: clearing up spillages, wiping the door handles with disinfectant (a regular occurrence these days) and for make-up emergencies, so we get through a fair bit.
‘We’re on our last roll,’ Erica says at the other end of the phone, confirming my worries.
‘I knew I should have stocked up, but I thought the reports were exaggerated.’
‘Obviously not – it just takes one national crisis and everyone is reaching for the loo roll,’ comments Erica.