Beggars and Choosers by Catrin Collier Page A

entered the lift. ‘I meant it when I said we had some serious shopping to do and it will take for ever if we wait for the assistants to carry everything through to a private room,’ she whispered, as the boy closed the cage.
    White silk gleamed beneath fairy-tale weavings of the feather-light, starched, antique Bruges lace that covered the bodice of Sali’s gown from the high-necked collar to the pointed triangle that ended an inch below her natural waistline. Long sleeves clung, a second skin on her upper arms that frothed out in cascades of lace worked to the same pattern as the bodice, layering the lower sleeves from her elbow to the base of Sali’s thumbs. The slimline, satin skirt covered in a single layer of lace, swept down, foaming into a mass of ruffles on the hem and short train. Lifting the train by the fine white cord attached for the purpose, Sali spun slowly before the cheval mirror. After four and a half months of full mourning, the dress seemed blindingly, surreally beautiful.
    â€˜The hat and veil.’ Miss Collins snapped her fingers at her assistant. ‘As you see, Miss Watkin Jones, Mrs James, I’ve used the same lace to trim the hat and make the veil.’
    Sali continued to stare at herself in the mirror as the dressmaker pinned on the white, broad-brimmed hat trimmed with frills of lace and white and cream silk rosebuds.
    â€˜Before the ceremony,’ Miss Collins covered Sali’s face with the veil, ‘and,’ she deftly swept the lace away from Sali’s face and over the crown of the hat, ‘after.’
    â€˜What do you think, Sali?’ Edyth asked.
    Sali’s eyes misted over. ‘It’s beautiful but ...’
    â€˜Your father would not have wanted you to wear mourning on your wedding day,’ Edyth declared resolutely.
    Overcome with emotion, Sali turned aside.
    Edyth turned to the dressmaker. ‘This dress is exactly right, Miss Collins, understated yet elegant. It would not look out of place at court. Once the town sees it, you will be hard-pressed to fill the orders that will flood in. Every bride in Pontypridd will be clamouring to buy one of your creations.’
    â€˜Thank you, Mrs James.’ The dressmaker glowed at the compliment as she helped Sali unbutton the dress.
    â€˜Thank you, Miss Collins, and not only for my wedding dress,’ Sali added. ‘The morning, afternoon and evening gowns are beautiful.’
    â€˜It is a pity they all had to be black or grey, Miss Watkin Jones.’
    â€˜I am sure Miss Watkin Jones, or Mrs James as she soon will be, will return to order more gowns as soon as she is out of mourning, Miss Collins.’ Edyth glanced at her watch as she rose to her feet. ‘Would you please arrange for the accessories Miss Watkin Jones has chosen, her trousseau and wedding dress to be delivered to Ynysangharad House this afternoon and send a message to Mr Horton to tell him that we will be leaving the choosing of Mr James’s and Miss Watkin Jones’s china and silverware until this afternoon? Mr James is expecting us to join him upstairs for lunch.’
    â€˜Certainly, Mrs James.’
    Remembering her letter, Edyth removed it from her bag as the dressmaker helped Sali to change back into her walking suit.
    â€˜Bad news?’ Sali asked, as Edyth frowned.
    â€˜Inconvenient.’ Edyth pushed the letter into her pocket. ‘Miss Collins, thank you again.’
    â€˜My pleasure, Mrs James, Miss Watkin Jones.’ Miss Collins opened the door of the fitting room and bobbed a curtsy, as they headed for the lift.

Chapter Five
    â€˜Harry would have been proud of you for going ahead with your wedding exactly as planned, Sali,’ Edyth assured her, as they left the lift on the attic floor and walked past the stock rooms.
    â€˜You don’t think I am being disrespectful to his memory?’
    â€˜On the contrary, I think you are being brave in adhering to his wishes.