Finding the right dress was easier than Sandie first thought . . .
BY ALYSON HILBOURNE
WHAT do you think?” Sandie stood in the centre of the living-room, one hand on her hip and twirled.
The skirt of her dress was cut on the bias and flared as she spun.
It had cost a fortune, but it was well made and Sandie was fond of the frock.
She’d worn it to various events over the years, but had to admit it was past its best.
“I can’t see Bruce Willis,” Derek growled, peering round her to see the TV.
“You’ve seen it before,” Sandie pointed out, stopping so the skirt dropped.
“But it’s getting to the exciting bit –” “Indulge me for a minute. Is this dress OK for your retirement do?”
Derek rolled his eyes.
“Derek!”
He put his hands up and looked at her.
“Well?” Sandie spun round.
“I suppose,” Derek said grudgingly. “Is it new?”
“Derek!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been wearing this for years. I wore it to June and Arnie’s retirement do last year and for Hannah’s after graduation dinner.”
“Oh,” Derek mumbled.
“Do you think I should get something new?” Sandie asked, catching the note of dissatisfaction in his voice.
“You could. It’s bit old fashioned, isn’t it?”
Sandie shrugged.
“I suppose,” she said and left Derek to his action film.
She went upstairs and took the dress off.
She laid it on the bed and smoothed the fabric down.
Most of the diamanté beads around the neck and sleeves had come off over the years, but she’d smartened it up for various occasions with beads or belts or a bolero jacket.
Sandie swallowed. She’d never realised Derek didn’t care for the dress.
All those times she’d walked proudly into a room beside him, and he had been indifferent to what she was wearing.
She folded the dress carefully and added it to the bag for the charity shop.
On Saturday she dragged Derek into town.
“You’ll have to help me,” she said.
“How long will you be?” Derek asked, hanging back as they entered a third shop. “Couldn’t I go for a coffee?”
“As long as it takes,” Sandie replied, thinning her lips. “And no, you need to see what I’m getting.”
Derek sat outside the changing-room as Sandie swept inside with three dresses over her arm.
“No,” Derek said as she came out in the first.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“It’s dull,” Derek said.
Sandie looked down at the berry-coloured dres
