Page 108 of Rafferty's Rules
‘I’m sure they’ll all look very dashing.’ I’m very much looking forward to peeling one of them out of his.
‘There’s something about a man in a tuxedo,’ she adds. ‘Something that makes you want to whip it off them.’ I blush a little as though Sally has been reading my mind. ‘At least, that was the case when my Tony was alive.’
‘If you don’t mind me asking, how long since your husband passed?’
‘It’s five years now. I was very sad, but life goes on whether you’re ready for it to or not.’ I murmur sympathetically as I’ve no experience to add. I might’ve lost grandparents but that can’t be the same. ‘But I’ve got my boys, and I’ve got my grandkids. And who knows? Maybe I’ll end up with more than three...’
As her words trail off, she sends me a meaningful look. One that makes me inhale weirdly, an inhalation that turns into a even stranger cough.
‘Rafferty was such a beautiful baby. He had hair like guinea gold, my mother once said. And such blue eyes. Of course, all my boys have got beautiful eyes.’
‘Very beautiful,’ I agree.
‘It’s just a pity they were all nine-pound babies.’ She eyes me speculatively. ‘And you such a little thing.’ Scratch that; she eyes me like I’m a brood mare. The cough becomes a strange wheezing kind of laughter.
‘Sally, you’re—’
‘I know,’ she says patting my hand. ‘We’re about the same height. When I was your age, I was just a slip of a girl, too.’
‘No, Sally, I mean—’
‘Jumping the gun? Barking up the wrong tree? You forget, I can see the way you look at each other.’
‘But—’
‘But nothing. Phillips boys aren’t like other boys, darl. Once they give you their heart, they’re loyal to the core.’
‘Rafferty hasn’t given me his heart, Sally.’Just his penis, I think.On loan for a while. To use as I please.
‘We’ll see,’ she answers with the air of someone who isn’t used to being wrong. But in this instance, she is. Isn’t she? ‘Are you going to try this on, or what?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Go on, make me feel ancient, why don’t you,’ she grumbles good-naturedly.
‘I mean, yes,Sally. Thank you.’
I lift the dress from her arm which is, surprisingly, my size.The dress, not her arm. But before I can make it to the fitting room, she’s heaping more into my arms. In fact, so many, that the sales assistant has to help hang them in the cubicle. I say cubicle, but it’s more like a small dressing room. Very boudoir-ish; a velvet chair and an ornate silver framed mirror, I notice, as I’m shuffled into the room myself.
I lock the door, and stand before the mirror. My face is kind of unremarkable and without a lick of makeup. My stature small, my clothes kind of boring.Or maybe that’s how you feel after wearing shorts and T-shirt for days and days.
And then I glance at the whole load of expensive gowns waiting for me to try on.
Well, I think,I’d better get this over with.
The first dress is a steely grey colour with a pleated bodice and a dropped waist that gives way to a flowing skirt. It isn’t bad, except for a front that’s very low cut. And when I saylow cut, it almost hits the bottom of my ribs.Short girl problems.
‘Let’s see, darl,’ Sally calls, knocking on the door. ‘Don’t keep me in suspenders!’
So I open it. To her wolf whistle.
‘This bit... ’ I pull the dress away from my chest as she looks at me expectantly. ‘What if my—look, I know I haven’t got a lot up top, but I’d prefer not to flash anyone.’
‘Ah.’ She nods. ‘I see what you mean. Try on another and hand me out that one.’
I do as she directs. This one is plum. A plain top, but a clever skirt, layered like petals. But it also has a slit in the side that rises to my hipbone.
I tell Sally I’m not coming out. ‘It’s like a nightgown!’ I protest, as she chuckles.
