submit-button

Pretty In Pink

0 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 50 votes, average: 0.00 out of 5    0.00/5
Loading ... Loading ...

January 21st 2014  |  0  |  Category: Drama , Fiction , Inspirational , Romantic Love  |  Author: dante  |  811 views

Normal
0
21

Pretty in Pink

By Tracey Johnson 

“I wish I hadn’t let Doreen go, I loved her.” Said Mike.

My son was marrying Janice our local veterinarian. Who would have thought that Mike could find a woman like Janice and then talk about someone called Doreen on his wedding day.   Mike was always different when he was young.  He is what young people these days refer to as ‘gay’ or so everyone in the village thought.  He designs wedding gowns for a living.  He’s got a lovely shop above the hair salon.  Everything is so romantic in his shop just like the wedding today.

        Mike never went out with women to my knowledge, in fact, the village folk assumed that he and John were an item, you know a couple.  They shared an apartment together and John was the hairdresser.  What a shock to find out my son was what Mr Barker the butcher called a ‘real man’ 

        Janice has long dark hair worn in a tight bun at the back of her head; her deep blue eyes gazed lovingly at Mike as they said their wedding vows.  Her parents are very prim and proper and they don’t approve of her marrying my Mike.  What a lovely girl.  Her wedding dress in ivory with the bodice decorated in pink lace to match the headdress 

was Mike’s best creation yet I thought.  Janice was carrying a big bouquet of pink roses and all the guests wore pink roses in their lapels.  The church was full of white carnations tied with pink bows.   

          Mike was regionally famous for his wedding gowns.  He did a fashion show in London once.  He was interviewed for a fashion magazine and he even sold a wedding gown to a countess.    He’s my only son and I’m so proud of him.  My Ernie would have been proud too.                                                                                       

      The rice and rose petals rained down on them as they left the church and ran to the waiting horse and cart.  Mr Robinson from Home Farm had been so grateful to Janice for saving Lucy the horse, he decided it would be a wonderful wedding gift to allow the bride and groom a ride to the reception in style.  Lucy and the cart were decorated with pink rose buds. 

        “Now Pamela, don’t start crying, your mascara will run.” Fussed John.  “Listen darling you can borrow mine, it’s waterproof.”

         John, outrageously dressed in a bright pink shirt and grey suit with wide cuff sleeves, led me to his group of chatty friends.

         “OO Bobby, help me to re-do Pamela’s face, she looks like a rainbow.”  Said John, pushing my hair back from my forehead.

“Leave it to me.” Bobby replied, “I’m a make up artist at the Bodyshop.”

He looked more like a drag queen from the Crazy Horse in Paris to me.  Still they tried their best, you can’t work miracles on a weather beaten face like mine.

          It was late Christmas Eve when I found out about Mike and Janice.  I was just leaving the over 60’s club with Peggy when she said, “your Mike’s a lucky lad.”  I asked her what she meant and then she told me.  Well you could have knocked me down with a feather and no mistake. 

          I didn’t think Mike seemed any different than usual, I never guessed that he had Janice, never mind this other woman called Doreen.  I’m not one to pry you understand.  I used to go to his flat to feed that dreadful cat of his but I never saw any letters from women or anything of that kind.  He always had women’s clothing lying around of course; part of his job wasn’t it.

            Well, here I am in the ladies room with two effeminate men ready to apply lipstick and powder to my face in order to attend my son’s wedding reception and to wish him every happiness.  This means I might even have some grandchildren, what a nice thought.  I wish I knew who Doreen was though.                                                                            

         Perhaps it was that woman who came into Mike’s shop for a fitting.  He took her to dinner and she seemed very interested in him.  She was a blond with a town house in Manchester and I remember now she sent him a Christmas card and then Mike invited her to the village fate.  I can’t remember her name though. 

          John is running his comb through my hair and Bobby is setting out his make-up brushes.  They proceed to cleanse my face and then Bobby starts applying foundation whilst John opens the eye shadow compact. 

“John”

 “What dear?”

“Do you know Doreen?”

“Doreen, oh yes, she was lovely you know but she had to go.” Said John as he applied green eye shadow over my wrinkled eyes. “This is your colour Pamela.  You know, you should get yourself a face-mask and use moisturiser everyday.  Perhaps you should consider letting me cut your hair into a bob.”

“Doreen,”

“What dear?  Oh Doreen yes, well Mike adored her.  If you wear blue dear, you really must add some colour, you know like beige or pink perhaps.”

  “Doreen,”

“Oh Doreen, yes I told you Pamela, she had to go.  You see dear, Janice has two dogs and they don’t get along with cats.”

 

 

                                                              

 

 

                                                                  

 

0 |





Leave a Reply

You must be logged in to post a comment or you can