Friday, 16th December
Brides by the Sea: Crossed hearts and mermaid tails
‘Leave the Closed sign up for now, Sera.’
Jess, my boss and mentor, is thinking ahead as usual, talking to me over her shoulder, as I wait for her to unlock the door to Brides by the Sea, the most popular wedding shop in all of Cornwall and where I’m lucky enough to work. Even though I pass them every day, the trails of frosted ivy and those cascades of tulle in the Christmas window displays still send shivers down my spine which are nothing to do with the icy blast of the December wind that’s howling across St Aidan Bay. I know most brides choose to get married in summer, but when I see the whirl of hanging snowflakes and the sparkle of sequins against the snowy lace dresses, I completely understand why my sister, Alice, fell in love with the idea of getting married at Christmas. In less than a week’s time, a hundred and fifty guests will be descending on a Cornish country house for her four-day-long wedding celebration. Yes, it’s as epic and ambitious as it sounds. Only a power house like Alice would ever try to pull it off. As for whether she’ll succeed… Well, watch this space.
Coming back down to earth this morning, beyond the suspended silver baubles flashing with the reflections of a thousand fairy lights of the window displays, the remnants of last night’s staff Christmas-drinks party are waiting for us inside the shop. As the warm air of the entrance hall wraps around us, I peer through into The White Room, where we were partying last night, then pull back sharply.
‘Jeez, it looks as if a giant party popper exploded in there.’ The low whistle I let out is to hide my horror at the mess. From the number of glasses, you’d have thought we’d invited the whole town, not just a few close friends from the business.
As I stoop to ease a cashew nut out of the gap in the floorboards and flick on the lights on the giant Christmas tree in the hall, my head throbs. There’s a tinkle of dangling sleigh bells as I nudge the branches on my way back up, and set the white painted pine cones spinning on their ribbons.
I pick up a tumbler and shudder at the dying raspberries in the bottom. In the cold light of morning, I can’t believe we got so carried away by Christmas that we flouted Jess’s ‘clear drinks only in the wedding shop’ rule and went for red punch. Or worse, that we were rash enough to float exotic fruits in the Ruby Duchess cocktails next to so many precious and beautiful white dresses.
‘We had a lot to celebrate, Sera, we’ve had a fantastic year.’ Jess is looking surprisingly upbeat for someone who was at the after-party until four, and has come in to find her main bridal room trashed. It’s possible she might still be drunk. She’s also building up to a purr, so even though she said it all last night ten times at least, it’s obvious what’s coming next. ‘All thanks to you and your wonderful Seraphina East dresses.’ Truly, someone needs to move her on from this loop to save me all the blushes. However hard I try, she doesn’t take any notice.
In case you’re wondering, I’m Sera, short for Seraphina, and I design a lot of the wedding dresses Jess sells in the shop. And if you don’t already know, Brides by the Sea is four floors of bridal gorgeousness, in the seaside town of Saint Aidan. No prizes for guessing it’s almost on the beach, which is where I wandered in from, with my scrap book of dress designs eight years ago. And I’ve been here ever since. Jess, the owner, began by doing wedding flowers in one tiny room, and built her way up to what is here today – a Bridal Emporium containing everything you could need for a wedding. And brides flock here from Devon, Cornwall, and the world beyond.
And what Jess is talking about here is me getting the chance to design a celebrity wedding dress earlier this year. Which obviously was great for the shop, and is why my designs now have a dedicated room of their own, and why my name is painted on every shop window. But given I hate the attention being on me, it’s also meant I’ve spent the last few months trying to hide in corners.
‘Weddings taking off at Daisy Hill Farm brought us a lot of business too,’ I say. I’m trying to shift the glory off myself here, because last year Poppy, the wedding-cake maker who lived upstairs and worked at the shop, became a wedding organiser at a local farm. So if we’ve had a brilliant year, it’s down to her too.
‘It was so nice to see Poppy again,’ I muse. However awesome the party, my high point last night was Poppy coming home after a couple of months in London, and looking so happy to be back. Come to think of it, I could murder a giant piece of Poppy’s carrot cake right now.
‘I’m so pleased Poppy’s come to her senses and grabbed Rafe at last,’ Jess says. ‘We could all do with a farmer like him, he’s completely yummy.’
Jess is talking about very own Brides by the Sea in-house romance, which was finally sealed yesterday evening. After a whole year, Poppy is finally going out with Rafe, her boss from the farm.
Jess begins to unwind her silk scarf. ‘I haven’t booked any brides in for this morning, because we’ve got so much work to do here.’ She’s not joking about that. And given most days she’s meticulous enough to have us wiping away the rings on the coasters every time someone lifts a prosecco glass, we need to get cracking.
‘Great, shall I collect glasses and you do surfaces?’ I rub my hands together to show that despite my headache, I’m ready to get stuck in.
Jess sends me one of the despairing looks she saves for when I’m being dense. ‘We aren’t here to clear up, Sera.’
‘We’re not?’ This is news to me.
There’s more purring going on. ‘Two tame and very sweet bar boys from Jaggers will be arriving any minute to look after that.’ So that explains that purr. Jaggers Cocktail Bar is Jess’s favourite hang out in town. Even though the clientele are half her age, when it comes to downing cocktails, Jess can drink most of them under the purple plastic designer tables, no problem. And given she spends so much time there, she’s great friends with the staff.
‘So what are we doing?’ If Jess doesn’t have cleaning plans for me, I’ll head upstairs to my studio. Not that I’ve told her, but I’m very behind with my dress designs for next season’s collection.
Jess sends me another despairing look. ‘Sera, please tell me you haven’t forgotten. We’re sorting out your bridesmaid’s dress. Obviously.’
‘Oh shit.’ My groan is long and heartfelt as I hitch up my shorts.
I design dresses, I don’t wear them. Ever. And I know I have to make an exception for my sister’s Christmas Eve wedding, but thus far I’ve been in denial. Although the bridesmaid’s dress arrived weeks ago, despite Jess’s best efforts, I’ve dodged trying it on. Although, as I think about Alice, I let out a shriek. ‘Oh shit, Alice wants a Skype call, I need to set up my laptop. Like now…’
If someone said ditsy, I’d have to hold my hands up to that one. I’m the dreamy person, with the attention span of a gnat. The one who’s so easily distracted that when I dunk a biscuit, it invariably falls in my tea. Let’s face it, I’m creative. Coordination and organisation aren’t in my mindset. Which is why Jess is so great for me to work with. She keeps me on track.
‘Set up your Skype in your room, Sera, I’ll get your dress from the store. That sister of yours can wait five minutes while you try it on.’
Jess deals in orders, not suggestions. She might be bossy, but I forgive her every time. In the last eight years, it’s her hard business head and her drive that have taken me from a student with a sketch book to a designer with a studio and a dedicated room in her shop. Plus an annual collection, and more couture clients than I can handle. If it hadn’t been for Jess, I would still be lazing on my beach towel, drawing and dreaming. And Jess has supported me all the way, financially too, which is unthinkably generous and why I don’t mind her railroading me sometimes.
I mean who – except Jess – would have imagined that five minutes later,