IMPORTANT NOTE: Series 2 begins in America tomorrow; I'm still working on a way for me to see it online but until I do so, can I please ask that people do not put any kind of spoilers in reviews or PMs, thank you! (Thank you to the people who've been suggesting websites but as yet none are working for me in the UK.)
Another quick reminder – Carrot Cake is set in the UK where we use British Sterling!
Note: There are a couple of moments in the chapter when the conversation takes a slightly risqué turn, but nothing that I would classify above a 12A/PG13 at the cinema. And thank you to the guest reviewers!
Carrot Cake
Chapter Five
It really shouldn't be so difficult, Belle thought, staring into the depths of her wardrobe, but it was. How out of practice at dating could you be?
It was Thursday, and in three hours she'd been standing in the cathedral green, waiting for Gold and wondering where she was going to be wined and dined. She had absolutely no idea what to wear. It was a trivial matter really; she'd never had any trouble picking date outfits before, but then again, she'd never had as much time to stew over things in anticipation before. She'd tried to get round this problem by keeping so busy that she simply didn't have time to think. Emma had commented on it on Tuesday lunchtime.
"Is it me," she'd said to Ruby, "or is our little Belle not looking over at Guildhall quite as much?"
When Ruby had told her the reason, Emma had hugged Belle so hard that she'd nearly broken in two.
"You'd better see if reality measures up to fantasy," Emma had said wickedly, at which Belle had gone bright red and resumed her previous occupation of cleaning the coffee machine, muttering about it only being the first date and they might never get that far.
But now, there were no coffee machines to clean and she couldn't avoid thinking about making a good impression. All the other times she'd spoken to Gold, she'd been wearing her work uniform. Now she had the chance to show him the real Belle. Unfortunately, the real Belle couldn't decide who she was. It was no use. There was only one thing for it. She was going to have to call in expert help. She was going to have to phone Ruby.
Her friend picked up after one-and-a-half rings.
"Ruby, it's Belle, I'm in a bit of a tizz because I don't know what to wear. I need your help."
Ruby gave a sigh of happiness down the phone.
"I thought you'd never ask. Give me two minutes to get a taxi and I'm there."
"Aren't you working?" Belle asked.
"No, I cajoled Granny into taking this shift so that I could be on hand for your fashion crisis. I had a feeling there might be one."
Belle groaned, listening to Ruby fumbling with her keys and locking the house she shared with Granny.
"Am I really that predictable?"
"No, Belle, you're really that nervous, and it's perfectly understandable." There was no teasing tone in Ruby's voice as there had been so often of late when Gold was somehow related to the topic of discussion. She sounded as if she genuinely wanted to give her friend some sound advice. "Taxi!"
"It is?" Belle asked.
"Of course. You haven't been in the dating game for nearly eighteen months; you're out of sync. And this isn't some random bloke you met at the Black Horse one evening; this is a man totally unlike any you've dated before whom you've been admiring from afar for months now, so this first date is more important than any other first date."
"Where are you going, love?" Belle heard the taxi driver ask.
"Fifty-six, St Anne's. I know how you're feeling, Belle, because I felt it myself on Monday with Archie. Honestly. This one's suddenly so much more vital than the others. You need it to go well, it's not just a bit of fun. Anyway, you just sit tight and I'll be there in about ten minutes. Bye."
"Bye."
Belle tossed the cordless phone onto the bed and sank down beside it, gazing despondently over at her wardrobe. At least Ruby was going to help. Having gone out with Archie on Monday night – a date she'd actually been on time for, for once – and secured a second date for Saturday, her friend had been floating along on Cloud Nine, the spring never out of her step and the smile never off her face. Belle was privately quite glad that Dr Hopper hadn't been into the café during the week in case Ruby dragged him off into the fridge.
Presently she heard a car pull up and idle outside. Belle lived on the ground floor of a terraced house, her bedroom facing out onto the road. She peered round the net curtains and saw Ruby leaning into the driver's window of a taxi, and she went to let her in.
Her friend was carrying a bottle of wine.
"Fantastic," Belle said. "Dutch Courage."
"Oh no," Ruby said. "The wine's for me. You're being wined and dined later, we don't want you sozzled before you get there as that really wouldn't make a good impression. Now, let's get to work. To your wardrobe, Miss French!"
Ruby didn't need directions to find Belle's bedroom, and she needed them even less to find the wardrobe. She abandoned the bottle of wine on the dressing table and positively dived into the closet, rifling through the hangers at an alarming rate. Belle resumed her previous position on the bed, pulling her knees up to her chest and wondering if she had made the right decision in letting Ruby come over. Perhaps she could sneak off with the Chardonnay whilst her friend was distracted.
"Oh good grief, Belle, why haven't I seen this before?" Ruby's voice was lowered in awe as she carefully pulled a hanger out of the wardrobe, and Belle saw that it hosted her one and only formal gown; long, full-skirted, off-shoulder in bright golden silk. She raised an eyebrow.
"Because it's not exactly practical for working or a night at the Black Horse." Belle wondered what the reaction would be if she walked into their local pub wearing the gown. She was half-tempted to try it.
"I know," Ruby said wistfully. "It's a shame it's not practical for a dinner date either. But…" Her eyes glittered with the spark of an idea. "If Gold takes you to the Christmas charity ball at the castle, you have to wear it. There's never been a more appropriate colour."
Belle rolled her eyes, hopped off the bed and snatched the hanger from Ruby, stowing the dress safely back in her wardrobe.
"Spoilsport," her friend sniffed. "I was having lovely visions of you and Gold waltzing off round the room à la Disney. Tale as old as time, and all that."
"Yes, well, romantic as the notion is, dancing's not going to be very high on the agenda," Belle pointed out. "He's got enough trouble walking."
"You've ruined the dream enough already, there's no need to crush it completely."
"And the ball isn't for another month-and-a-half. Tickets haven't even gone on sale yet. A lot can happen in six weeks."
Ruby grinned.
"Exactly. Oh well, this isn't getting you dressed. And we're going about this all wrong. We need to start from the inside out. How can we possibly work out what you're going to wear on top if we don't know what you're going to wear underneath?" Ruby promptly pulled open Belle's underwear drawer. "Why do you keep your passport in with your knickers?"
"It's as good a place as any. Do we have to look at my underwear? It's only the first date; I wasn't exactly planning on having him see it."
"Oh, I know you're not that kind of girl. It'll be a while before you're sweeping his in-tray off his desk and alarming his secretary."
"Ruby!"
"Ok, I'll be serious. You'll never feel confident and lovely if you aren't wearing the right underwear. So get your lucky knickers out and we'll work around them."
Belle obliged, and Ruby skipped back over to the wardrobe.
"Where's he taking you?" she asked, sounding remarkably giddy. Belle was beginning to believe that she'd started on the wine in the cab on the way over.
"I've no idea. We're meeting in the green so presumably somewhere within walking distance."
"Belle, there are at least six eating establishments within walking distance of the cathedral green. You could be going anywhere from the Royal Clarence Hotel to the Chinese takeaway." Ruby tutted. "Honestly, men never think about these conundrums when planning. This is why I usually take matters into my own hands when it comes to organising dates."
"Even when you're late for them."
"That's neither here nor there."
Belle shook her head in despair.
"Where's that blue dress you wore to Emma's birthday party? That would be good. Aha!" She pulled out the hanger and gave the dress a thorough appraisal. "Perfect! Might be a bit cold for October though. Ugh, you cannot iron." Ruby fished out a white cardigan and draped it round the dress. "I think that's suitable for just about anywhere he could take you, although it might be a bit overdressed for the Chinese. And if he takes you there to try and impress you on a first date, then I'd advise against giving him a second one. I know how much you like him but believe me, relationships started whilst waiting for a takeaway never go well."
"If you say so," Belle said. She didn't really care where they went; she was far more interested in the company.
"I do say so. Now, where are your shoes? You can't go in your fluffy slipp-argh!"
Ruby, precariously balanced as she leaned into the bottom of the wardrobe, had fallen into Belle's neatly stacked shoeboxes.
"Erm, help?" she cried mournfully, waving one hand. Belle pulled her out of the heap and she emerged from the chaos clutching a bright blue kitten-heel shoe.
"This is just the thing," Ruby said happily, not at all phased by her ordeal. "Now all we need to do is find the other one."
It was somewhat easier said than done, but eventually they managed to cram all Belle's shoes back into their respective boxes, re-stack them and find the missing footwear.
"Right, you hop in the shower and I'll get this ironed, because honestly," Ruby said, indicating a long crease down the front of the dress that really shouldn't have been there, "you cannot iron for toffee."
"Yes, well, I have other talents," said Belle, moving through the flat to the bathroom.
"Yes, like dreaming up erotica to rival the best of them," Ruby called after her. Belle rolled her eyes as she heard her friend clattering about in the cupboard under the stairs. At least she now had something to wear. Presuming, of course, that she still had something to wear after Ruby's efforts with the iron.
When she returned to her bedroom. Belle really shouldn't have doubted her. The dress and cardigan were hanging on her wardrobe door looking an awful lot better than when she'd last seen them. Ruby had cracked open her wine and was browsing Belle's extensive bookshelves.
"Well, at least I know where you get your inspiration from," she said as Belle began drying her hair. "Delta of Venus, Jane Eyre Laid Bare…"
"Oh, shut up," said Belle. "Let me have my fantasies. From my previous experience, they're all too good to be true anyway."
"You can't have had much good experience then," said Ruby.
"Hmm." Belle concentrated on her hair. The grand total of different men that she had slept with in her life so far was three, and she wasn't quite willing to share that with Ruby.
"Upside to an older man," Ruby continued, raising an eyebrow at her in the mirror before resuming her flick-through of Delta of Venus. "He's been around long enough to know he's not God's gift to women and therefore actually take care of you in that respect."
"Can we please change the subject?" Belle asked plainly. "How many times do I need to remind you that this is the first date? Has Granny had any more interest in Astrid's job? I took another CV in yesterday."
"That makes five so far," Ruby said, "but she keeps coming back to the first guy, August. The others are all students up at the university, and you know she's not keen on hiring the 'bright young things' as she calls them. She says they're too unreliable." Ruby laughed. "The only thing that's holding her back is the fact he's a man."
"Worried he'll corrupt her girls?" Belle asked.
"No, worried that her girls will eat him alive. I did point out that you and I were both taken, but she didn't seem convinced."
"I don't think she's worried that we'll jump on him; she's probably more worried that he'll be overwhelmed and outnumbered. You have to admit that we can be pretty lethal when the three of us get together. How old is he, anyway?"
"Thirty-five, I think Granny said."
"He shouldn't have too much of a problem then." Belle searched in her drawers for hairpins. "He should be able to hold his own." She grinned. "Like you said. Older men."
Ruby laughed.
"Now you're getting into the swing of it. I've been wondering though…" She came over and perched on Belle's dressing table with her wine. "About Emma…"
Belle raised an eyebrow.
"What about Emma?"
"Well, you and I have landed on our feet with men recently. Ok, I have landed on my feet with men recently," she amended on receiving Belle's pointed look. "Yes, I get it, first date, he might turn out to be incredibly, mind-numbingly boring or take you for a takeaway. But that aside, we still haven't done anything about Emma."
"Are you seriously suggesting that Granny hires August just so that you can set him up with Emma?"
"Oh, Belle, you can read me like one of your books. What do you think?"
"I think you're nuts. I think that Emma's perfectly happy as she is, thank you very much. I mean, she's got Henry to think of too, his opinion. She can't just bring a new man into his life without due consideration. Besides, this August might have a significant other himself. Called April. Or May. Or January."
Both women dissolved into giggles.
"Ah well. You can't be an obscure writer that no-one's ever heard of unless you've got a silly name," said Ruby.
Belle furrowed her brow.
"I think I have heard of him, actually," she said. "I think I've read one of his. Library, local authors' section."
Ruby was immediately interested.
"What was it like?"
"It was a while ago, now. Something fantasy-ish. I was going through a phase and all the plots tended to blend together. Possibly an alternate Snow White story."
"Alternate Snow White story, hmm. Well, considering your current choice of reading material, I should imagine it was something along the lines of 'pure as the driven snow on the outside, wanton seductress on the inside'. She did live with seven men, after all."
Belle rolled her eyes and checked the time. As lovely and nerve-calming as it was to be having a girly chat with Ruby somewhere that wasn't work or the pub, she was going to have to get a move on. Ruby noticed her increased haste.
"I'll leave you to get ready in peace. Show me how you look before you rush out of the door!"
She left the room and Belle heard her in the living room, going through the books in the shelves there.
"Do you do nothing but read?" she exclaimed. Belle didn't bother to reply because Ruby knew the answer full-well already. She concentrated on not getting mascara on her nose and quickly got dressed.
"Give us a twirl," Ruby said, coming out of the kitchen with her bottle of wine recorked and her jacket on, ready to leave. Belle dutifully twirled before putting her own coat on, just as her phone gave a single ring to let her know that the taxi was waiting. Normally she'd take the bus into the town centre, it was only a ten minute ride, but she was terrified of doing a Ruby and so, feeling flush and hoping it would be worth it in the end, she'd called a cab. Ruby stepped out of the house and watched her lock up.
"Remember, you have to tell me everything. Everything!" she called as Belle scrambled into the waiting car. "And if he takes you to the Blue Dragon and you end up eating egg-fried rice on a park bench, ditch him immediately."
As the taxi pulled away, the nervousness that Ruby's presence had managed to dispel began to creep back into her veins. She was going out for dinner with Mr Gold. She had daydreamed about this moment for over three months and now that it had arrived, she was terrified. The easy chatter they'd shared in the café discussing chipped cups and first name terms on Sunday seemed very far away. She'd been on home turf then, feeling safe in the café's cosy and familiar surroundings. She'd been Belle the waitress, exchanging banter with her customers. Now she was venturing into the great unknown and she was just Belle, no persona to hide behind. She crossed her fingers on top of her handbag and sent up a quick wish to the Pole Star.
Please let this go well.
To be continued