THE NEXT DAY Meg had a text from Kate.
There was a problem with the dresses for the bridesmaids, apparently. They needed altering. The dresses were French couture, hand-sewn from measurements only. So it wasn’t a big shock that they might need altering.
Meg didn’t reply to Kate straightaway. Yes, she had endless wedding-related texts, but mostly she was dealing with the chaos surrounding her father. So the next morning she texted Kate that our tailor was standing by. At the Palace. His name was Ajay.
This wasn’t sufficient.
They set up a time to speak that afternoon
Charlotte’s dress is too big, too long, too baggy. She cried when she tried it on at home, Kate said.
Right, and I told you the tailor has been standing by since eight a.m. Here. At KP. Can you take Charlotte to have it altered, as the other moms are doing?
No, all the dresses need to be remade.
Her own wedding dress designer agreed, Kate added.
Meg asked if Kate was aware of what was going on right now. With her father.
Kate said she was well aware, but the dresses. And the wedding is in four days!
Yes, Kate, I know…
And Kate had other problems with the way Meg was planning her wedding.
Something about a party for the page boys?
The page boys? Half the kids in the wedding are from North America. They haven’t even arrived yet.
It went back and forth.
I’m not sure what else to say. If the dress doesn’t fit then please take Charlotte to see Ajay. He’s been waiting all day.
Fine.
A short time later I arrived home and found Meg on the floor. Sobbing.
I was horrified to see her so upset, but I didn’t think it a catastrophe. Emotions were running high, of course, after the stress of the last week, the last month, the last day. It was intolerable—but temporary. Kate hadn’t meant any harm, I told her.
Indeed the next morning Kate came by with flowers and a card that said she was sorry. Meg’s best friend, Lindsay, was in the kitchen when she turned up.
Simple misunderstanding, I told myself.
