Camp Little Willow

Chapter 4

     In their very nicely manicured hands, is a gorgeous retro pinup dress.

     It's navy and floral, but it's the shape that captures my heart. Narrow at the top, but from the hips down it flares out and then cuts off at what looks like just below the knees. The top of the dress is collared and has a short sheer cape. It's cute, sophisticated definitely, but is it mocking enough? Do I even care?

     "It's brilliant," I whisper, reaching out to touch the material.

     "Well, go and try it on, hunny. I'm thinking Audrey Hepburn, it'll work so well with your fringe, maybe some long sleeve gloves." Bertha smiles, herding me towards the changing room just as Zoe pulls the door open and strikes a pose.

     "Yes! I love this! I feel like a fricken' businesswoman!" She throws one arm up against the doorway and the other on her hip.

     "You look like a rock star!" Bertha exclaims, clapping their hands together.

     "Ooh, what have you found, Cass?" She pulls at the bottom of the dress and admires it. "Yes, it's totally you. Maybe some silk gloves, and, oh, oh you could do your hair like Aubrey Hepburn! We could be a rock star and superstar! We're so going to look better than the boys! Try it on!" Zoe squeals and knocks on the door beside hers.

     "OK! OK!" I blush.

     As I slip out of my denim shorts and white bardot top I wonder if this is the kind of shopping trip I've always missed out on with girl friends. I mean, Mum and me go shopping sure, but she never tries anything on and is never buying herself new clothes. And I have friends, but shopping isn't really their thing either.

     I pull the dress on carefully, not sure if it's actually vintage or a replica. It slips around my curves with ease and hugs them comfortably. I'm in love. This is it. I don't even care about mocking the obnoxious, rich people across the lake anymore; I just know that I can't be without this dress. The material is soft and light, but somehow the skirt still manages to float out and hold itself there.   I take a deep breath and open the door. Zoe and Bertha look at me, eyes wide, mouths open.

     "OhmiGod," Zoe breaths. "It's stunning. You have to get it!" She claps her hands together, now back in her red spotty sundress.

     "I know." I smile, looking back at myself in the mirror. "How much is it?" I ask, realising that I only have an embarrassing amount of money on my card. I wasn't expecting to be going to the town and we don't get paid this week since starting early is voluntary. I could call Mum if I really need to.

     "For my best customer? Forty for both outfits, and the spread of word." Bertha smiles moving towards the till. I sigh a deep breath of relief. Twenty pounds I can do, and it's a steal for this dress. I change back into my plain old boring clothes quickly and meet the other two at the desk.

     "Look what we found!" Zoe exclaims, holding up a pair of navy silk gloves. "Also, where do we stand on the feather boas, Bertha?"

     Bertha's nose wrinkles and they frown. "You know better than that, Zoe. Nothing about feather boas screams sophistication." Bertha berates us as they bags up our clothes.

     "No, you're right." Zoe nods, pulling two tenners from her purse. "Have you got cash?" She asks, turning towards me.

     "Yeah, I think so," I say, grabbing my purse from my bag. Thank God I agreed to babysit for a neighbour one night last week. I pull a twenty pound note out and hand it to Bertha.

     "You have been a Godsend, as ever!" Zoe beams as she takes her bag from the desk.

     Bertha blows us a kiss from the doorway as we link arms and make our way back out of Vintage Alley, content with our purchases.

     "Bertha rocks, doesn't she?"

     "Yeah, how did you know about that place?" I ask as she pulls me in the direction of Old Jack's. The town looks pretty standard, a Paperchase here, New Look there, but every so often there is a shop or cafe that I've never heard of before.

     "Oh, Bertha's a neighbour, I actually worked in the shop for a few weeks around Christmas. It doesn't get much footfall, but it gets the right kind of people coming in, especially at that time of year." I nod, vaguely understanding what Zoe means.

     We arrive before the guys at Old Jack's, which is styled on an American diner. It's half full, and we manage to grab the last bright red booth. We discuss our makeup and hair styles for tomorrow night, until we sport the guys sauntering in, bags in hand and grins plastered across their faces.

     They slide into the seat opposite us and when a waiter comes over, we order milkshakes and cheesy chips. "Honestly they're the best thing on the menu, everything's great, but the cheesy chips come out top," Robbie explains to Josh and me who have never been to an Old Jack's before.

     "OK, OK, show us the goods," Zoe says, practically bouncing in her seat.

     "Now, Zoe, I know we're close and all, but-"

     "Oh, you know what I mean, Crash!" Zoe exclaims, blushing slightly.

     Crash snickers as he pulls a bright, floral, comedy holiday shirt out of his bag. We stare at him for a minute, waiting for him to say he's joking and pull something else out of the bag. But he doesn't.

     "OhmiGod." Zoe and I both cringe at the same time, just as a waitress brings our drinks over. She takes one look at the shirt and scurries away, trying to hide her laughter.

     "Yep, that's what I was going for. It's obnoxiously loud, right? And I thought I'd pair it with some bright red swim trunks, flip flops and a shark tooth necklace." Crash beams with pride. I still can't believe he's being serious.

     "So you're going full on douche?" I ask, grinning as everyone starts to howl with laughter.

     "You know me so well, Cass." Crash smirks, pushing his shirt back into its bag.

     "OK, ladies and gentlemen, prepare for your worlds to be blown by my awesome outfit." Robbie starts a drumroll on the table before pulling a white, short-sleeved shirt embroidered with the Ralph Lauren logo, and checked grey suit shorts. "And just to top it all off." He pulls a pair of black suspenders and a light pink bow tie from the bag.

     "Very sophisticated." Zoe nods her head in approval.

     "Yeah, I thought I'd go like, Oliver Twist with a hat too, but these two thought it was too much." Zoe and I nod, a hat would make him look too much like an X-Factor hopeful. "So I guess I'm just a rich boy from the country club now."

     "OK, Josh-y boy, you're up." Crash smiles towards the end of the table where Josh cringes at the nickname. He takes a quick sip of his strawberry milkshake and then opens up his bag.

     "Oh, God, alright, so here's what I thought: hipster. I have jeans back at the camp, so I found this," he pulls a white linen tunic shirt from his bag. "And I bought some loafers to complete the look." Josh smiles nervously. We nod our heads in approval, very hipster.

     "Oh but wait, tell them!" Crash says, laughing in between each word.

     Josh reaches into the bag again with a huge grin across his face. He pulls out a clear packet filled with something black.   "I thought, what do all hipsters have?" Zoe and I share a glance, confused, so Josh places the packet on his chin and I gasp.

     "You haven't!" My hand flies to my mouth as I realise what is in the packet.

     "Fake beard. It might add a few years onto my look as well." Josh grins, rather proud of his purchase. God, I can't picture Josh with a beard, but I look forward to it.

     The waiter who took our order brings our cheesy chips over just as the guys finish packing away their purchases. Robbie was right; the chips are amazing. We hatch our plan for tomorrow evening as we eat, finalising everyone's role. When we finish the milkshakes, we order a second, not completely ready to leave for camp yet. We talk and joke around for the rest of the afternoon, and I can't remember a time when I've ever felt I've belonged with a group of people so much.