An elderly woman stepped into the grand doors of a high-end bridal boutique in London. The shop was draped in silk and lace, a temple of extravagance where only the wealthiest brides dared to tread. Simon, the sharp-tongued salesman, prided himself on spotting a genuine buyer from a mile awayand today, he was certain hed seen nothing but a lost pensioner.
The woman, Margaret, wore a well-loved tweed coat and sensible shoes. Her silver hair was tied back in a simple bun, far from the polished glamour of the usual clientele. She didnt belong hereat least, not in Simons eyes. He barely glanced up from his phone, nudging his colleague, Emily, with a smirk.
“Blimey, looks like someone took a wrong turn on their way to the charity shop. That coats seen better days,” he muttered under his breath.
Emily shot him a warning look. “Thats uncalled for. Shes a customer. Help her.”
Simon exhaled dramatically, still scrolling, as Margaret approached the counter with a gentle smile.
“Excuse me, young man”
He cut her off with a sigh. “Let me save you the trouble, love. These dresses cost more than your pension. Theres a lovely secondhand place down the roadmight be more your speed.”
Margarets smile didnt falter, but her voice turned firm. “Oh? And youve decided that for me, have you?”
Simon shrugged. “Just being honest. No point wasting your timeor mine.”
At that moment, a glamorous woman strode in, draped in designer labels, her phone already poised for photos. Simon leapt to attention, oozing charm.
“Good afternoon, madam! You look absolutely radiant. How may we assist you today?”
Emily, returning from the storeroom, caught the flicker of hurt in Margarets eyes. She stepped forward.
“Hello there! Have you been seen to yet?”
“Im afraid not,” Margaret replied, her gaze drifting to Simon, now fawning over the influencer.
Emily guided her to a private fitting room, pulling out exquisite gowns until Margarets face lit up at the most lavish onea hand-stitched masterpiece with a price tag to match. Meanwhile, the influencer paraded in and out of dresses, snapping selfies before casually announcing she wouldnt be buying a thing.
Simons jaw tightened. “You mean you just wanted free content?”
She grinned. “Welcome to the digital age, darling.”
As she flounced out, Simon turnedjust in time to see Margaret at the till, withdrawing a thick envelope of crisp £50 notes. She paid in full, then handed Emily an envelope.
“Five thousand pounds?!” Simon choked.
Margaret arched a brow. “You called me love earlier. Now its madam?”
Simon stammered, his face flushing scarlet. “II didnt realise”
“Didnt realise what?” Margaret interrupted. “That I wasnt some penniless old woman? A word of advicemanners cost nothing.”
She turned to Emily with a warm smile. “Thank you, dear. Youve been wonderful. Do come to the weddingits at St. Pauls Cathedral.”
Simon stood frozen as the door chimed behind her.
Emily chuckled. “Margarets a retired nurse. Shes marrying Lord Harwoodthe widowed earl she cared for after his stroke. He insisted she have the wedding of her dreams.”
Simon swallowed hard, the weight of his arrogance settling like lead in his stomach.
“Next time,” Emily said lightly, “try kindness first.”
And that summer, beneath the vaulted ceilings of St. Pauls, Emily raised a glass to Margaretthe bride whod taught them all a lesson in humility.
