Revival (Johanna's story with Luke Hemmings)

Chapter 52

52.
I did wake for a bit around five this morning, but thankfully got back to sleep quickly and only vaguely recall Luke kissing me goodbye and lifting the duvet for Jess to climb in with me, when he left for work.  The tables were turned, except that traitorous Jess didn't make as much of a nuisance of herself and only stopped for one token lick on my cheek before getting comfortable in the bed.

When I stirred again the feelings of serenity were suddenly fading, replaced by a growing anxiety about what I would actually wear tonight for Dad's party.  Mum always looks so poised and elegant.   Through all of our differences it is something that I have constantly admired about her, but never been able to emulate.  I realise that I can't even remember the last time I went shopping for some new clothes. 

I had Dad's present sorted out months ago, and I think that made me feel so organised that I didn't consider much else.  I got him a stylish gold (well, gold-tone) watch.  He spent much of my childhood making jokes about the cheap, crappy watches he wore - that he couldn't risk anything more expensive around the light-fingered people he met on the job, and that the force would see him right with something flash when he retired. 

I got myself to the mall as soon as I'd had a quick shower and some toast.  I now have a big stack of dresses on the hook in the changing room.  I pretended not to see the sign saying only three items at a time, because I can't be bothered traipsing back and forth getting dressed again each time, and let's face it, I don't have a clue where to start.  I have already been in, and quite quickly out again, of the majority of the options that I grabbed. 

I pull down a black long-sleeved A-line dress that finishes just below my knees as there's a call, "Can I help with anything?" and a young ditzy-looking sales assistant pokes her head in.  She pulls the curtain open further and then takes a step back frowning, "Hmm - is it for a funeral?"

I chuckle and instantly have a much higher opinion of her.  Honesty is surely a rare trait amongst sales people.  "No, I'm looking for something for a birthday party."  I feel about ready to throw myself into her hands.  I just don't know that I have much confidence in her finding something better.  I look at her face - she must be only seventeen or eighteen years old.

"Can I ask how old you are?" she says, studying me back in the same way, and making me feel a bit exposed. 

"I'm thirty-five" I divulge.

She nods her head thoughtfully while looking me up and down, "Well that dress is for someone in their fifties."  She starts taking my other options down from the hook and looking at them, "You didn't like any of these did you?"

"Not really."

"Good."  She scoops them up to take them away.  "I'll be back in a minute.  We got something in this week that would look great on you." 

I take off the black dress and stand nervously waiting in my bra and knickers.  I hate shopping.  I'm so glad I have to wear a uniform for work.  I feel a bit envious of Luke - he seems to get away with a uniform of black jeans and a T-shirt for all aspects of his life ...and always looks good.  Men have it so much easier. 

I am pulled from my thoughts by a bright red dress coming through the curtain.  "Wow, that's bright."

"It'll be good with your dark hair" comes the girl's quick and confident response.

I open the zip and start stepping into it.  It takes me a few moments to orientate myself to it only having one shoulder and sleeve.  I pull it up and she steps in to fasten the zip. 

"That's much better" she says proudly, pulling me out of the cubicle.  "Come see in this mirror."

I step tentatively closer to the mirror on the end wall in my bare feet.  The dress finishes several inches above my knees and even has a small V up in the front.  It is fitted, but in a classy sort of way ...I think.