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“Not for me,” I say. “For you.”
Her eyes lock on mine when she gets what I’m saying, and she shakes her head.
“You don’t need to do that. I was only commenting in passing.”
She wasn’t, though. I saw the way her eyes lit up when she saw it. The mannequin shows it off like it was made for her, and I can imagine her wearing it, enjoying the float of the fabric at summer barbeques with the boys.
“Let’s just go check it out. Just to see.”
“Ells,” she says. “Honestly, keep your cash for yourself. You should be spending money on your own wardrobe, not mine. You’re the one who takes it hardcore, not me.”
“Yeah, because I like the hardcore. That’s why. It’s hardly under duress, is it? Plus, my wardrobe is getting bigger by the week. Josh will need to get another few wardrobes soon at the way I keep expanding my collection. You can think of it as saving me a clothes hanger.”
“For four hundred quid?! That’s an expensive clothes hanger.”
I adore the woman in front of me, so beautiful and styled, but still so humble. I wouldn’t be here now, in the stately streets of London with a hefty wedge of cash in my bank account if it wasn’t for her introducing me to The Agency. I wouldn’t be the confident Ella I’ve grown into if she hadn’t believed in me and encouraged me. I wouldn’t be with Josh. I wouldn’t have been able to visit my parents at Christmas. I wouldn’t have been able to quit my store job. My life would still be an absolute piece of shit.
“Please,” I say. “Can we just take a look?”
She knows me too well, even though the bulk of our friendship has been on video call.
“You don’t owe me anything, babe. You give back more than enough to everyone who ever helps you, just by being you.”
I take her hand at that, dragging her towards the store doorway.
“And that kind of sentiment is exactly why I want to see you in a dress like that. You deserve it, just for being you.”
“Ella,” she says, but her feet move along with mine. “Fine,” she says. “Just a look though, ok? I’ll try it on, but don’t go dashing to the counter if it looks less than perfect on me.”
“It’s going to look like perfection on you. I already know it.”
We walk through the aisles, checking out the displays until we see the selection of poppy dresses. Her eyes light up all over again as she holds one up on a hanger. It’s even more stunning up close. The silky lined fabric is gorgeous.
“It’s really nice,” she says, “But four hundred quid? I could buy six dresses for that.”
“Tell you what,” I say. “I was going to be looking for a crystal bracelet today. I was thinking silver with a bit of onyx. How about you buy me a bracelet, and I’ll buy you a poppy dress?”
She rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on. It’s hardly the same, is it?”
“No, but it’s the sentiment, not the cash value. I’ll wear it and think of you.”
She laughs. “Yeah, well, I’ll be wearing this and thinking of dancing in meadows, and watching polo matches in the sunshine. It’s like something from Pretty Woman.”
I grin back. “Ahh, so you will have it, then? You’ll be thinking while you’re wearing it, so you’ll have to be wearing it to be thinking in it, won’t you?”
She keeps hold of the hanger, wavering, but I wait. She looks at the dress, then over at me, back to the dress, and over to me. And then she sighs.
“This is a one off, ok? I’m not going to be a sponger. And I’d better try it on first, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“Sure, sure,” I say, beaming as we head to the changing rooms.
I figured I knew how good Eb would look in the dress, but I was wrong. It suits her even better than I thought when she steps out from behind the curtain. I hold my hands up to my face, nodding as she does a spin for the mirror. She’s like a goddess. An absolute goddess.
Shame she doesn’t love hardcore, or she’d earn a fucking shit ton.
“I love it,” she says, swishing the skirt from side to side. “Fucking hell, it’s beautiful. But it’s four hundred quid, Ella.”
“Three hundred and ninety-nine, actually.”
