Page 53 of The Love of My Afterlife
I screw my face up and try to remember the last party I went to. I can’t, which is fine, because parties I’ve seen on television seem like a full-on nightmare. All those performatively jolly people, beige food, small talk,DJs.
Leanne grabs her phone and pulls up her calendar app. “How long do I have to design the costume? I can try to do everything at cost, but obviously there’s my time and the fittings, and you’ll definitely want embellishments—”
“Oh no, you don’t understand,” I cut in. “The gala is on Thursday night.”
“This Thursday night? As in tomorrow?”
I nod.
Leanne shakes her head. “There’s just no way. No way in sweet hell that I can pull that off by tomorrow. My god, Delphie. I need warnings. You can’t just come in here and demand time off and spectacular costumes with zero notice!”
I grimace. That’s fair. “I’m sorry,” I say. “Do you know of a costume shop where I could hire something?”
Leanne wrinkles her nose. “Christ, I can’t let you hire. Anything decent will already be booked out, and the fabric they use in those places is lousy. I once hired a mermaid costume froma shop and there was a literal flea in the bra. No, no. You’ll spend the evening scratching and pulling, and that won’t be fitting for something so fancy.”
“Ooh,” Jan says thoughtfully, boxing up a bottle of Buttercup cough syrup for a customer openly disgruntled by the lack of attentive service they’re receiving.
“What is it, Mum?”
“Remember that dress you wore for your grandma Diane’s seventieth party? The grey silky one with the…thingies.” She points at her shoulders.
“The capped sleeves?” Leanne finishes, pressing a finger to her chin.
“You were a bit chunkier then, so it would probably fit Delphie now, and you two are about the same height.”
Leanne closes her eyes and starts mumbling to herself. “It would need fringing, and some sort of sparkle. I could leave the capped sleeves on, yes, and then there’s the feathers from…And the hair could…”
She opens her eyes and then looks me up and down three times, spinning me around with her hand and giving a final nod. “What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
I think about the plan I made with Cooper last night. “We’re going to set off at five p.m. in time for the gala start at seven p.m.”
“In that case you’ll have to be here at two.”
“Two? Ha! Are you kidding? I don’t need three hours to get ready!”
“I assume you need assistance with your glam?”
“Glam?”
“Hair and makeup.” Jan purses her lips together, a know-all expression on her face. “Are you not on Instagram, Delphie?All the movie stars get glam. They have glam teams and all sorts.”
I shake my head. “I’m not on Instagram. Too many videos of people pointing at words.”
I don’t mention that I did once sign up to Instagram, posting a selfie that got only one like, from a US Marine doctor. He later messaged me and asked if I would like to rate his dick. I deleted the app soon after.
Leanne and Jan give each other a look.
“Just…leave it with me,” Leanne says. “Be here at two p.m.”
“Ooh, and before you go, this came for you,” Jan says, handing me a copy ofMoney Maims, Money Killsby R. L. Cooper.
“You opened it?” I tut.
“I thought it was for me. You never have stuff delivered here. I didn’t know you were into crime novels!”
“I’m not.”
But I am curious to know why Aled was so excited to meet Cooper, and there was no way I was chancing the package being sent to Cooper’s flat by mistake and him knowing I’d ordered his book.
