‘I’m right here,’ I say. ‘Where do you want to start?’
She sweeps a look around the racks of clothes. ‘Not those, for a start. Who would be daft enough to wear something like that?’
She points to one of the dresses. A woman emerging from the changing rooms wearing the same dress gives her an affronted look and storms back inside.
‘Don’t shout so loud,’ I say. ‘That woman looked really upset.’
‘I can’t hear you!’ she snaps, but her cheeks are pinker than usual.
She brightens as she catches sight of a rail of dresses. ‘This is more like it. What lovely frocks.’
I groan inwardly. Any item to which she refers as a ‘frock’ will inevitably be hideous.
‘There you are!’ Elaine appears, an armful of clothes resting on her carrier bags.
‘I nearly dropped these,’ she goes on, pushing the tangle of fabric into Mum’s arms.
Mum looks horrified. ‘Oh, no, Elaine! These aren’t the sort of thing at all!’
She holds up an indigo jumpsuit, covered with sequins. ‘What would Annie want with something like this?’
‘To wear it, of course!’ says Elaine cheerfully. ‘She’s young. She doesn’t want to look like her mother.’
‘And what’s wrong with the way I look?’ says Mum.
‘Oh, you know what I mean.’ Elaine hands me a bright green bodycon dress. ‘This would be perfect for you. You could wear a shrug during the ceremony. But you could take it off afterwards, and you’d be all ready to party.’
‘I really don’t think so,’ I say, trying not to laugh. ‘Thanks, anyway.’
‘I should think not!’ says Mum. ‘You’d need a lamp post to accessorise that outfit.’
‘Don’t be so narrow minded,’ says Elaine. ‘Annie’s far too pretty to –’
‘I don’t see what pretty has to do with it,’ objects Mum. ‘Besides, they probably are pretty, or no one would –’
‘This is a most inappropriate conversation for someone of my tender years,’ I tell them. ‘Anyway, I’d prefer something a little more sedate.’
‘I knew it!’ says Mum triumphantly. ‘I told you we should have started with Country Casuals.’
‘I wouldn’t go that far,’ I say. ‘But I’d rather look for a compromise. How smart is this vow renewal?’
‘Not at all!’ says Elaine.
‘Very!’ says Mum.
‘Perhaps we should start by settling the degree of formality,’ I say. ‘It would save us a good deal of time.’
‘It isn’t formal at all,’ says Elaine. ‘You should feel free to wear something young and form-fitting. You’re only young once.’
‘But not too form-fitting,’ says Mum.
‘Shall I go and wait in the coffee shop while you settle the issue?’ I ask.
‘You’ll do nothing of the sort,’ says Mum. ‘We’d never get you back up here. She’s terrible at shopping,’ she tells Elaine. ‘It was the exactly the same when she was young. She never liked anything I suggested. If she’d had her way, she’d have lived in jeans.’
‘I still would,’ I say, releasing my arm from Mum’s grasp. ‘But I’m perfectly happy to buy something appropriate for tomorrow’s ceremony, as it’s a special occasion.’
‘Which is exactly what I’ve been saying,’ says Mum. ‘If you hadn’t spent so much time arguing, we could be done and home by now.’