Free Being Shirley by Michelle Vernal Page A

“Don’t you bring her into this! It’s not as though she made sterling life choices, is it? And nobody made you my guardian either, thank you very much.” Annie’s face heated up, along with her temper, as her voice rose and the seams of the dress strained. “Besides, look at the state of your relationship—you’re hardly in a position to be advising me on marriage!”
    As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Annie regretted them. Hurt flickered over Carl’s face. “Oh! I’m sorry, Carl. That wasn’t called for.”
    Carl, however, was a world-class sulker and as his bottom lip jutted out, it seemed they’d reached a silent impasse.
    Haughty Amanda’s head stopped swinging back and forth as though she watched a particularly feisty game of tennis and her attention settled on Annie.
    “Ahem, might I offer Madam some help getting out of the dress?” She was petrified this lull in bickering was the calm before the storm. A catfight while Madam was wearing a one-off, Julianne Tigre design she did not need, thank you very much!
    “No thank you, I’ll manage.” Annie nearly tripped over the hem as she turned. Amanda gasped but Annie ignored her and flounced back into the dressing room. She locked the door and huffed over the fact that while she had apologised, she certainly wasn’t going to grovel. Carl could just get over himself. She gave the cherubs a two-fingered salute before she unzipped.
    When she came back out dressed in her civvies, Carl had gone.

 
     
Chapter Six
     
     
    To: Kassia Bikakis
    From: Annie Rivers
    Subject: Why I am never drinking again and this time I mean it.
     
    Hi Kas:
     
    Okay, so I will start at the beginning. I made an appointment (it is a very posh place) to try the dress on at Modern Bride for last Thursday night and Carl and I arranged to meet up first for an early Thai dinner. I wanted him to come with me because I know that I can always count on him to be honest, except this time I got a bit more honesty than I bargained for, though I don’t know why it came as such a shock. Remember that time I got my hair cut to shoulder length and he marched me back down to the salon and told the stylist to give me my money back because no woman should have to pay for the privilege of looking like a red-headed sheep who had encountered a stoned shearer? Sometimes it amazes me that we are still friends but then I know I can always count on him to never let me head out the door with my skirt tucked into my knickers or any other such fashion faux pas. Anyway, we had a nice meal—have you ever tried Pad Thai? It is yummy and according to Carl doesn’t have the bloating properties of an Indian curry. Do you even have Thai restaurants in Crete? After we had eaten, we headed to Modern Bride, which was only a couple of doors down from the restaurant for my big moment.
    Oh, Kas, it was perfect. Every gorgeous ivory inch of it was exactly what I dreamed my wedding dress would be. It was made for me, and Carl agreed, although the woman who owns the shop, Amanda (I have nicknamed her Haughty Amanda), kept insisting it was a bit tight around my middle—it wasn’t. Anyway, back to Carl: what he doesn’t agree with, he told me in no uncertain terms, is my choice of fiancé. He doesn’t think we are right for each other and apparently has always assumed that eventually our relationship would run its course. He’s been humouring me over the whole idea of getting married but the sight of me in an actual wedding dress made it clear to him that the time had come to say his piece where Tony is concerned. He didn’t hold back and to cut a long story short, we had a fight .
     
    Annie yawned and flexed her fingers as she tried to ignore the niggling kernel of guilt that she had yet to even tell Tony about the dress’s existence. She’d made the excuse that she was working late the night she’d tried it on, not wanting to tell him what she was really up to. That was down to timing, though, she