‘Yes, isn’t it exciting? You will come, won’t you? Don’t pull faces at me, though – I have to stay very serious. Oh, Matty, I’m getting nervous now just thinking about it! Did you get very nervous when you were a bridesmaid for your Aunt Rachel?’
‘No, I just felt a right fool. Especially when I had to follow the bride and they told me to keep my head up because no one wants a stooping bridesmaid, and yet I also had to keep my head down because they were all terrified I’d stomp on Aunt Rachel’s hem and tear it. Honestly! So I kept looking up and down until I felt my head was going to nod right off my neck.’ Matty demonstrated her technique. I could see why her mum sighed whenever she talked about the wedding.
I rather wanted Matty’s mum to see me as a bridesmaid.
‘So you will come, won’t you? St John’s Church at noon. I so want you to see what I look like,’ I said. ‘If I look all scared and trembly, you can give me the thumbs up and your special smile, and then I’ll feel better, won’t I?’
‘Mmm,’ said Matty. ‘Well, I’ll see if I can come, but actually I think I might be going out on Saturday. If it’s this Saturday. I mean, I absolutely know I can come the Saturday after.’
‘Well, that’s not much use. I can’t get Miss Bloomfield to change her wedding day! Oh, Matty, please come. I want someone to see me in the bridesmaid’s dress.’
‘Your dad will be there, won’t he?’
‘Yes, I know, but he’s just Dad. Weddings aren’t really his thing.’
‘They’re not mine either! And it isn’t as if this is a proper wedding anyway,’ said Matty. ‘You said this Miss Bloomfield is ancient and she’ll just be inviting a few of her chums from some old folks’ group.’
‘Don’t be mean! I didn’t say that, not in those words. It doesn’t matter that she’s a bit old. You can get married at any age. And she seems so happy too. And I’m happy that I’m getting to be a bridesmaid at last. Don’t spoil it,’ I said, clenching my fists. ‘What are you going to do that’s so important that you can’t come to the wedding?’
‘Don’t get so het up! I’m going to the zoo, if you must know. And don’t get upset, but I’d much sooner see a lot of monkeys and tigers and elephants than some stupid old wedding,’ said Matty. ‘If you were absolutely honest, you’d far sooner see a whole lot of animals too.’
‘No I wouldn’t. I hate zoos! They’re horrible places. I wouldn’t be seen dead in a zoo,’ I declared. I was being reasonably truthful, because zoos always made me think of those desperately sad Saturdays after Mum left when it was all Dad and I could think of to do together. But I didn’t want to tell Matty that, so I started to pretend I objected to zoos on principle. Which I actually did too.
‘Think of all those poor wild animals cooped up in cages like they’re in prison. They want to be running free in the jungle or the savannah or wherever they live,’ I declared.
‘Free to be shot at. Free to starve to death. Free to be eaten by some other bigger animal,’ said Matty. ‘Most of the animals in zoos are specially bred there anyway. And they’re not in cages nowadays – they’re in big enclosures.’
‘Oh, shut up about your stupid zoo,’ I said.
‘Well, you shut up about your stupid wedding,’ said Matty.
We barely talked to each other for the rest of the day. It was very awkward seeing as we sat right next to each other at school. Miss Hope paused midway through the afternoon, putting one hand on my shoulder, and one on Matty’s.
‘What’s up with you two today? You’re normally natter, natter, natter, but now you’re as quiet as little mice. You’ll be growing whiskers next and twitching your noses,’ she said. ‘Watch out. I might turn into a cat.’ She pulled a magnificent cat face, baring her teeth and miaowing.
Matty and I couldn’t help giggling. Then we were somehow friends again, just like that. She didn’t say sorry. I didn’t say sorry. But we kept making cat faces at each other and collapsing into giggles. Miss Hope had to tell us off eventually but she couldn’t help smiling too.
We made cat faces all the way home, miaowing at the tops of our voices. Lewis joined in too, even louder.
‘For goodness’ sake, calm down, all you pussycats,’ said Angie. ‘Or I might have to throw a bucket of water over you.’
Matty and I pretended to throw water over each other and laughed even harder. It felt so good to laugh and be so silly. I hadn’t laughed till my stomach ached for so long.
When we got to Matty’s house, Angie said she had half a mind to give us cat food for our snack. She looked in her special treat tin instead and broke a chocolate wafer biscuit into four sticks.
‘KitKat!’ she said, giving Matty and Lewis and me one stick each with a glass of milk, and eating the last herself. Then we went upstairs to play, though we were still all in such a silly mood that we didn’t manage the usual game of Warrior Princesses. Matty seized one of Lewis’s soft toys. It was originally a podgy zebra, but Matty insisted it was a cat.
‘Yep, it’s a killer cat. Watch it grow! It’s ginormous, the hugest cat in the whole universe and it’s hungry, it’s soooo hungry, it’s going to eat up all your other animals, Lewis. It’s going to eat you.’ Matty made the zebra-cat leap at Lewis’s neck, which made him squeal.
‘Stop it! Stop it, you’re making it too real,’ Lewis shrieked, batting at Matty with both hands.
‘It is real,’ she said. ‘All the cats in the world have mutated and are getting bigger and fiercer and hungrier.’
‘Better watch out when you go to the zoo on Saturday then,’ I said, a little tartly. ‘All the lions and tigers will be bursting out of their cages to gobble you up, Matty!’
‘I’m almost glad I’m not going!’ said Lewis, diving for his bed and cowering under his duvet.
‘You’re not going?’ I said. ‘Why on earth not? Your mum and dad wouldn’t leave you behind.’
‘We’re not going. It’s just Matty, the lucky thing,’ said Lewis, muffled.
I looked at Matty. She didn’t quite look back at me.
‘Who are you going with, Matty?’ I asked.
There was a long pause. Matty picked up Princess Powerful.
‘Come on, let’s stop mucking about with silly baby toys and play Warrior Princesses,’ she said, as if she hadn’t heard my question.
‘Who are you going to the zoo with, Matty?’ I repeated, though I already knew.
She still wouldn’t say it though. She just started fussing with Princess Powerful, making her do kick-boxing so that all my ponies fell down like skittles.
‘She’s going with that Marty,’ said Lewis, sticking his head out of the duvet. ‘And it’s not fair that they didn’t invite me.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me, Matty?’ I asked very quietly.
‘Because I knew you’d go all weird on me. Like you are now,’ she said.
‘I’m not being weird,’ I said, though I knew my voice sounded strange. My heart was thumping. I seemed to be thumping all over. Even my eyelids pulsed. ‘You’re the one who’s being weird. Why do you want to keep secrets from me when we’re supposed to be best friends?’
‘It’s not a secret. Look, it’s no big deal. I’m going to the zoo with Marty and her family. She Skyped me. They’re all going this Saturday and Marty thought I might want to come too. Simple,’ said Matty.
‘So she’s your best friend now?’ I said. I didn’t mean to say it. The words just blurted out of my mouth before I could stop them. It sounded so lame, so pathetic, so needy.
‘She’s not my best friend. You are. She’s just a friend friend. I don’t get you, Tilly. Why can’t we both have heaps of other friends? It’s more fun that way,’ said Matty impatiently. She was making Princess Powerful do karate chops with her arms. It looked like she wanted to karate-chop me.
I didn’t have heaps of friends. I didn’t spend any time with Cathy and Amanda now. I didn’t get in touch with any of the girls from my old school. I just wanted to have one best friend. And now
it looked as if she might be getting fed up with me. I wasn’t fun enough.
I hadn’t been fun enough for Mum either.
I started to cry before I could stop myself. Matty sighed. She tried to put her arm round me. I wanted to hug her but I pushed her away instead.
‘OK. Be like that. You really are a baby sometimes,’ said Matty, and she stormed out of the bedroom.
I collapsed in a heap on the floor, howling.
‘Don’t cry!’ said Lewis, wriggling out from under the duvet.
I jumped, because I’d forgotten he was there. He squatted down beside me.
‘Don’t get upset,’ he said. ‘Matty and I are always having arguments. But then we make it up. It will be all right.’
‘Best friends aren’t supposed to have arguments,’ I wept. ‘She’d much sooner have this Marty as her best friend.’
‘Well, Marty is very funny,’ said Lewis. Then he realized he’d been tactless. ‘But you’re nicer, Tilly, promise. Look, I’ll be your best friend if you like.’
I felt worse than ever then. I gave him a proper hug, and then we tried to play our own Warrior Princesses game, but it wasn’t the same without Matty. We kept listening for her footsteps but she didn’t come back.
She was in the kitchen with her mum. I felt worried. She’d be telling her mum, and then her mum was probably being understanding but saying she had to try to be kind to me. I went hot and squirmy just imagining it.
I didn’t know what I was going to do. I couldn’t keep going to Matty’s house after school if we weren’t best friends. I was pretty sure Aunty Sue wouldn’t take me back – and I didn’t want to see her ever again anyway. Dad wouldn’t let me go home by myself. I was stuck. I was the weird girl that nobody wanted.
But it turned out I was getting in a state pointlessly. When Angie called Lewis and me down for supper, Matty grinned at both of us.
‘Hey, I’ve made supper, all by myself – well, nearly. Look, prawn stirfry, yummy! I chopped all the veg and then I stirred and fried, didn’t I, Mum?’
It was as if the quarrel had never happened, though we were both careful not to mention Saturday.
I’d been so looking forward to the wedding and wearing the bridesmaid’s dress. I tried it on again that evening, instead of getting into my pyjamas at bedtime. I held the skirt out and forced a smile as I looked in my mirror. Did I look pretty in the dress? It was a bit too big for me, even when I tightened the sash at the back. And maybe I was too pale to wear raspberry pink. Perhaps I looked stupid.
Matty was right. It wasn’t a proper wedding. It was just two lonely old people deciding to live together. It wasn’t as if they were family, my old people. I hardly knew Miss Bloomfield. I’d never even met Mr Flower. I was just a rented bridesmaid.
Dad knocked on the bedroom door. ‘Are you in bed yet, Tilly?’
I didn’t answer. Dad waited, and then opened the door a crack.
‘Tilly? Oh, you look a picture!’ he said.
‘No I don’t,’ I sniffed.
‘Are you crying? Here, let’s take your dress off – quick we don’t want tearstains all down the front,’ said Dad.
He helped me pull it over my head. ‘That’s right. Now, I’m going downstairs to make something. Hang up your dress, put on your pyjamas and hop into bed, lickety-split.’
I did as I was told and waited. Dad was a little while. Then I heard him coming up the stairs, his footsteps slow and careful. He had a mug in each hand when he came in.
‘Tea?’ I said, surprised.
‘Much better than tea,’ said Dad.
It was hot chocolate with whipped cream and tiny little pink and white marshmallows floating on top!
‘Oh, Dad! And you’ve even got marshmallows!’
‘I saw them in Sainsbury’s when I was shopping on the way home. They reminded me of Miss Bloomfield. I thought I’d have a go at making us a proper hot chocolate as a little treat,’ said Dad. ‘Take a sip. It’s not too sickly, is it?’
I took a proper gulp. ‘It’s lovely, Dad,’ I said, licking my lips.
‘That’s good.’ Dad sat down on the side of the bed, careful not to jog me. He gently dabbed at my eyes with a tissue and then rubbed round my mouth too. ‘You’ve got a lovely little cream moustache.’
‘This is a special treat, Dad,’ I said.
‘Yes, well, we don’t have enough treats nowadays, do we?’ Dad sipped his own mug of chocolate. He looked down at my duvet, making his finger hop from flower to flower on the blue-sky background. ‘We did the right thing moving here. We needed to make a new start. Only we’ve not really started, have we? We’ve been a bit stuck, two silly old saddos. But now we’re going to have fun.’
‘We’re not very good at having fun, Dad,’ I said. ‘Not when it’s just you and me.’
‘Well, we’re going to have to try harder,’ he said. ‘The wedding’s going to be fun, isn’t it? You’ll love wearing your bridesmaid’s dress.’
I nibbled a marshmallow. ‘I’m a bit worried about it now,’ I said. ‘Maybe I just look stupid in it.’
‘Nonsense! You look absolutely lovely. I’m going to be so proud of you my heart will burst,’ said Dad. ‘Just you wait and see.’
Chapter Ten
WHEN I WOKE up on Saturday morning, I crept into Dad’s room. He was fast asleep, curled up in a ball as if he were still a little boy. He’d kept the bed he used to share with Mum when we came to the new house. It looked too big for just one person. I climbed in beside him and cuddled up to his back.
‘It’s the wedding day!’ I whispered.
He murmured my name in a pleased sort of way but he didn’t wake up properly. I tried a few wriggles and nudges to see if that would help but he started gently snoring. I felt too fidgety and nervous and excited to stay cuddled up for long.
I eased myself out of bed again and went to put on the immersion heater so that I could have a really big hot bath this morning. I checked on my bridesmaid’s dress again, as if it might have flounced off by itself during the night. It was hanging up outside my wardrobe, as fresh and silky and pink as ever. I rubbed the frilly hem against my cheek, loving its feel.
I held the dress up against me and practised walking very slowly and importantly around my bedroom, though it was a bit difficult in my flip-flop bedroom slippers.
‘Will I make a good bridesmaid?’ I asked Stripy and Blue Bunny.
I made them nod their heads enthusiastically. I tried playing a game with them, but it wouldn’t become real – I just stayed me playing with two cuddly toys like a baby. I got my crayons and my drawing book and started to draw Stripy and Blue Bunny instead, making them pose for their portraits. They were a bit small on the page so I drew some other animals around them. Monkeys and elephants and tigers. Then I drew two girls looking at all the animals. One girl had bright red hair and badges all over her jacket and sparkly trainers. I drew the other girl in a mad clown outfit with a tiny bowler hat and enormous baggy trousers with braces. I gave her a big round red nose and a silly grin. Then I scribbled all over her. I scribbled all over the whole page and then tore it out, scrumpled it up and threw it in the wastepaper basket.
I peeped into Dad’s bedroom, but he still wasn’t awake. I wandered back into the kitchen and stole a shortbread biscuit. I wasn’t really hungry, and after one bite just licked the sugar off. Then I washed my sticky hands and started another drawing. It was a proper picture this time. I started with St John’s Church. It was difficult remembering exactly what it looked like, but I knew it had a little spire and stained-glass windows and a grassy garden with roses. I drew Miss Bloomfield standing beside the rose bed in her pink-and-white wedding frock. She was hand in hand with Mr Flower. I tried to remember what the old man looked like in the photograph at Miss Bloomfield’s. I drew him wearing his best suit, with a rose in his buttonhole.
Then, last of all, I drew me in the raspberry-pink bridesmaid’s dress. I made my hair a bit longer and thicker and blonder and colo
ured my eyes very blue and gave myself cupid lips, just to look prettier on the page. This wasn’t cheating. It was something called Artistic Licence.
Then I had to spend ages colouring in all the boring bits like the sky and the grass. Sometimes I couldn’t be bothered to do it neatly, but this time I did my best to make the sky an even blue with little fluffy clouds, and I coloured the green grass in little vertical dashes to look like individual blades of grass.
Dad came into the kitchen in his pyjamas just as I was finishing.
‘Hello, Tilly! I’m so sorry I slept in, lovey,’ he said, yawning. Then he saw what I was doing. ‘My goodness, let’s have a look at your picture. It’s a little masterpiece! You must have been up half the night.’
‘It’s me at the wedding in my bridesmaid’s dress,’ I said.
‘I can see that,’ said Dad. ‘You’ve done it all so carefully – and I love the way you’ve drawn Miss Bloomfield. Tell you what, why don’t you give her the picture as a little wedding present? I’m sure she’d think it very special indeed.’
‘Do you think so?’
‘I know so! Now, let’s put the immersion on, so you can scrub yourself as pink as your pretty dress,’ said Dad.
‘I’ve done it!’
‘Clever girl. Then let’s have breakfast now. We don’t want you spilling your cornflakes all down your dress.’
Dad made the tea while I set out the cornflake bowls and put two slices of bread in the toaster.
‘We make a good team together, you and me, don’t we?’ said Dad.
‘Yes, we do,’ I said.
We gave each other a high five and smiled. We were a team with the most important member missing, but we were still a team.
I found I didn’t want to eat much breakfast, even though Dad let me sprinkle my cornflakes with rainbow sugar as a treat.
‘Eat up, poppet,’ he said.
‘My tummy doesn’t feel right,’ I said, rubbing it.
‘I expect you’re just a bit nervous,’ said Dad. ‘I wonder if Miss Bloomfield’s feeling a bit nervous too.’
Rent a Bridesmaid Page 9