Plan B

Chapter Thirty-eight

Clothes shopping for girls’ clothes with guys was surreal.  It was odd enough traipsing around shops for handbags and shoes with just Brookie, but after Isaac dumped his brother in town and met them outside H&M for “fun times!”, it felt positively weird.  For a start, it was the first time she’d gone shopping with any males outside her family (she didn’t count her bodyguards) in her life, and the boys were actually taking an interest in the clothing.

“No yellow,” said Isaac, tugging her away from a part of the store that practically consisted of the colour.  “It’ll look gross on you.”

“Yeah, it’ll make you look washed out,” Brookie agreed, shunting the pair of them away from the yellow.  “Try red.”

“Won’t it clash with my hair?” Fran protested, tugging at the wig.

“Nope,” said Brookie.  “Not if you choose the right type of red.  A large amount of what you can pull off depends on your personality, you know.”

Fran stared after the two boys as they waltzed away to another part of the shop.

The second thing that took Fran by surprise was that they actually started selecting items of clothing for her, and they both had pretty good eyes for style.

“Skinny jeans, definitely,” Isaac said, giving her legs a quick glance the second they got into Zara.  “And I reckon you can pull off a mini-skirt—”

“You want nice tights if you’re going to do that,” Brookie interjected.  “It’s getting cold, after all.”

They stood back to admire their handiwork as Fran emerged self-consciously from the changing rooms in grey slim-cut jeans, a bright red t-shirt and a simple black cardigan.

“The cut’s wrong on the hips for your shape,” Brookie said after a couple of moments’ thought.  “It makes the whole shape of the outfit seem a little odd.”

“You need the short cut rather than the regular for trousers,” Isaac added, stroking his chin.  “And do up the middle button of the cardigan – it’ll look prettier.”

“Why do you two know so much about girls’ clothes?” Fran protested as they pushed her back into the cubicle with more to try on.

“I have God only knows how many sisters,” Brookie said.  “And my parents are often busy, so when I was younger they used to take me shopping because my parents didn't want to leave me home alone.  And then when I was older and they started fostering and adopting, I used to be the one who looked after them when Cesca wasn't around.  Plus Selena was a shopaholic.”

“And I have Aaron.”

Their comments on the few outfits they allowed her to choose herself also surprised her.  She was used to Freddie’s very black-and-white approach to clothes shopping, which went something along the lines of “what the f*ck are you wearing?  That looks awful!” if he didn’t like it, or consisted of a grunt followed by “s’okay” if it looked good.  The boys were still blunt, but they at least were capable of more than two reactions.

“Nope, that makes you look fat,” Isaac said, “and those trousers make you look like a zebra.  Try these.”  He chucked another pile of clothes at her.

“That skirt requires knee-high high-heeled boots,” Brookie concluded eventually in Top Shop after they’d spent five minutes trying to work out why the outfit looked strange.  “We’ll get you some on the way to Debenham’s.  But otherwise, that looks really nice.”

“You could do with a size up for the sweater,” he commented when she next emerged.  “The colouring really suits you, though.  Isaac, see if you can find more stuff with pale blue on it.”