Chapter Four: Part Two
Kate called the couturier in the morning. ‘Hi my name is Kate Sh… sorry, Catherine Jones.’
A friendly voice said, ‘Ms Jones, Mr Savagewood said you would call. May we set a time today for your final fitting?’
Kate protested. ‘Excuse me, a final fitting? I haven’t even had a first fitting-’
‘Are you free later this morning? Harold is your driver and is at your disposal at any time convenient to you. Would 11:30 be suitable?’
Kate felt herself slightly overwhelmed. Just let go, her mind urged. She allowed herself to be swept into the current and said, ‘Eleven-thirty is great. Do you need my address?’
‘Ms Juanita has already supplied that information. Harold will collect you at 11:30 ma’am. I look forward to meeting you.’
Dee saw Kate looking at the phone on the kitchen table and asked what was happening. When Kate told her about the call, Dee gave her a hug and said, ‘Damn girl, you so deserve this. Have fun for us too!’
Kate surrendered. Everyone else was apparently comfortable with the idea and it seemed to be happening anyway.
He picked out a dress and did not even ask you about it! raged her inner feminist. Go burn a bra! replied every other part of her feminine being.
~~~~~
The intercom buzzed at 11:29. Harold was a respectful and serious middle-aged man of muddled ancestry and accent. Whilst not quite as magically smooth as Edison, he was a very safe and competent driver. He delivered her to a small shop-front boutique and said as he opened the shop door, ‘Please enjoy, Ms Jones. I will pick you up whenever you are ready.’
The boutique’s proprietess, a couturier of immaculate presentation, paused, looking Kate carefully up and down before smiling in a very self-satisfied way. ‘Ms Jones, it’s so good to meet you.’ Ushering Kate into a spacious interior, she continued. ‘Your dress is spectacular! I say this with shameless immodesty. May I offer you something to drink? Champagne, wine or juice?’
‘Champagne sounds wonderful, thank you,’ Kate said, deciding to throw caution to the wind and ‘enjoy the hell’ out of the experience.
A younger, more practically dressed woman was introduced as ‘Kate’s seamstress’. Kate was not totally at ease with a stranger helping her to undress, but the champagne helped. Then the couturier brought in the dress.
Looking at the pale creation, she was barely able to breathe. ‘How did you do it without measuring me?’ Kate asked, still trying to understand how this was a ‘final fitting’. Smiling, the seamstress produced Kate’s little black dress in the plastic sheath of a dry-cleaning service.
Quickly placing the pieces of the puzzle together, she smiled, realising that Dee already knew about this. A part of her mind chided her, Well, how else did he know you had the night off?
No, it was Carrie too. She had taken her dress along with some other clothes to the dry-cleaners on Sunday.
The couturier said, ‘To solve the mystery, your dress was originally made for a lady of remarkably similar proportions over a year ago. She was a gymnast and you have a very similar body shape and movement.’
Kate nodded, answering the couturier’s unspoken question, ‘Gymnastics and swimming until I finished my graduate degree. Just work and yoga now.’
‘I thought so. She fell pregnant before we could finalise her fitting. I knew the right occasion would present itself, and here you are. Mr Edison called me with your approximate measurements – he was very accurate, by the way – and once I’d seen your black dress, I knew this was yours. The rest is quite straightforward. Your breasts are slightly fuller than I thought, so we may have to do some minor alterations there, although it could also work to our advantage.’
The dress was a masterpiece of expertly cut, contrasting, cream and off-white silk panels. Tasteful accents of small, embroidered pearls made a subtle but stunning pattern. Kate was almost scared to touch it, much less wear it. It matched every curve of her body. The dress was a triumph of revelation and concealment, hugging Kate’s body almost as if it had been painted on, fitting her like an elegant glove. The couturier and her seamstress were radiant in their approval of Kate’s taut, womanly figure.
Of course, there were matching mid-height stilettos. Kate did not doubt for a moment that they’d fit perfectly. She’d noticed five shoeboxes behind the counter. It takes clever planning to do something effortlessly, she thought approvingly with a private smile, remembering her father’s often quoted words.
‘Two spots to adjust slightly. You wear that dress so beautifully that you could almost get away with it as it is. I am so glad you know how to hold yourself; slouching would ruin the effect completely.’ The couturier muttered some quiet instructions to her seamstress, who was taking notes. ‘Please don’t change your weight at all. You do need a little more of a tan though. Natural, please. No bronzers or sprays with this silk. I believe you were referred to Ms Killaine’s establishment?’
Remembering the spa owner’s name on the other business card, Kate nodded, still looking at her reflection in the mirrors. A phone appeared in the couturier’s hand and a brief conversation was held on her behalf. Kate was now headed to the spa after the fitting. Shaking her head, Kate sent a fast SMS message to Dee and Carrie, “Enjoying the hell out of the day. The dress!!! xo Kate”.
Ms Killaine’s spa was beautiful. The ladies fussing over Kate decided that two short tanning exposures were all she’d need with that colour and style of off-one-shoulder gown. They already had colour photos of Kate’s fitting from the couturier. They refused to let Kate go until they had performed a deep cleanse and facial, explaining that, ‘a break-out now is permissible, but a break-out on the night simply will not do.’
~~~~~
The amigas’ gig that evening was a simple one, finishing up at a very reasonable hour. In bed that evening, Kate felt one of her dark moods brewing, but she was able to chase it away by refocusing on the wonderful things that had happened since her divorce. Catherine was almost back to being Katie-J again, the bubbly, natural, confident woman everybody loved, especially Dee and Carrie. Her friends loved her and celebrated their wonderful Katie-J returning to life.
They had seen straight through The Prick, but Kate had been blind to his lies. Silvio Schivello was a very intelligent man. Devastatingly good looking in a greasy kind of way, he was tall, rugged, and radiated self-confidence in kilowatts.
Those who loved Kate had found the way The Prick systematically forced Kate to shut each of them out almost unbearable, and they celebrated her return.
~~~~~