Rent a Bridesmaid

by Jacqueline Wilson

  ‘Stop it, stop it, stop it,’ I hissed. ‘Stop thinking about Mum. Don’t let her spoil everything. You’re going swimming with Matty and her family, and Dad’s coming too, and next Saturday you’re going to be a bridesmaid all over again, so you’ve got to feel happy.’

  I unhooked my bridesmaid’s dress from where it was hanging and held it up under my chin. I looked at my raspberry-pink reflection and managed to calm myself down.

  ‘Tilly? What’s the verdict on your swimming costume?’ Dad called.

  ‘It’s fine, Dad,’ I called back. ‘Absolutely fine.’

  And I was absolutely fine after that too. Dad and I did do a little shopping, but just at the Saturday farmer’s market down the road. We wanted to contribute to the Lido picnic. We chose a big bottle of apple juice and a beautiful home-made coffee-and-walnut cake.

  ‘I’ll be able to make us cakes soon, Dad, when Mrs Flower has given me baking lessons,’ I said.

  She’d sent us a postcard from the Isle of Wight telling us that she was having a grand time with Mr Flower and they both hoped we’d go round to tea as soon as they got back.

  I wanted to carry the cake to the Lido, but it slid about in its box and it made my arms ache trying to hold it steady. Dad carried it instead, with the apple juice in his backpack, along with our swimming costumes and towels. We were meeting Matty and her family inside the Lido, but I hadn’t realized how crowded it would be. Dad and I peered at the wooden decking around the pool and the grass further back and the turquoise water itself, but we couldn’t see them anywhere.

  ‘Oh well, we’d better go and change into our swimming costumes now we’re here,’ said Dad.

  The men’s and ladies’ changing rooms were entirely separate, of course.

  ‘Will you be all right by yourself, Tilly?’ Dad asked anxiously.

  ‘Of course, Dad. I’m not a baby,’ I said, sauntering into the ladies’ – but I was actually a bit worried, not sure where to take my clothes off and how to work the little keys in the locker. All the other girls my age were with their mums. But it was simple enough to watch what other people did, and when I’d locked my clothes away, I pinned my key to my costume so that I wouldn’t lose it.

  When I came out of the changing room, I couldn’t see Dad for a moment, and that did make me catch my breath. I stood clenching my fists, staring at all the hundreds of strangers all around me. I walked over to the men’s changing room, but Dad wasn’t there either.

  ‘Are you all right, lovey?’ said a man coming out, his little boy riding on his shoulders.

  ‘I think I’ve lost my dad,’ I said in a very tiny voice.

  ‘Isn’t that your family over there? Look, they’re all waving at you,’ said the man.

  I turned round. There was Dad, looking thin and white in his swimming trunks, his towel slung round his shoulders, standing with Matty and Lewis and Angie and Matty’s dad, Tom – and, yes, they were all waving at me.

  ‘Hi, Tilly!’ Matty called, running over to me. ‘Wait till we get changed! Don’t go swimming without us!’

  Dad and I found an empty spot on the decking and spread our towels out, saving the rest of the space for Matty’s family. When they joined us, we all sat and chatted for a little bit, but then Matty got fidgety.

  ‘Come on. We’re at a swimming pool. We’ve got to swim!’

  ‘That pool’s a bit too big,’ said Lewis. ‘I want to go in the little pool.’

  ‘That’s just for babies,’ said Matty scornfully.

  ‘Why don’t you two dads go in the big pool with Matty and Tilly, and I’ll go in the little pool with Lewis,’ said Angie.

  ‘No, I’m not really that keen on swimming,’ said Dad. ‘I’ll sit and watch the picnic. We don’t want anyone sneaking a slice of our cake, do we, Tilly?’

  So Dad stayed on the decking. Angie and Lewis went off hand in hand to the little pool. Matty started pulling me towards the deep end.

  ‘What about starting at the shallow end?’ I suggested.

  ‘It’s too crowded down there. It’s much more fun up at the deep end,’ said Matty.

  ‘Is that OK, Tilly? How far can you swim?’ said Tom.

  ‘I can swim a length. Maybe two or three lengths, though I get out of breath,’ I said, truthfully enough – but I didn’t add that I hated going out of my depth. I was in Lewis’s camp – I liked to put my toe down on the bottom every now and then, just to prove it was there.

  Still, I wasn’t going to have Matty calling me a baby, so I clambered down the steps of the deep end and pushed off bravely. We swam backwards and forwards, careful to keep out of the way of some big boys who were mucking about, with Tom treading water beside us, checking we were all right. At first I held my breath and went a bit trembly, but after a while I got used to it. In fact it was almost fun. I stuck my hand out of the water and waved at Dad, and he waved back and gave me a thumbs-up sign to show that he was proud of me.

  ‘I’m getting a bit cold. Do you mind if I have a quick swim to warm up?’ Tom asked. ‘I can see you two are like little fish and won’t come to any harm.’

  He sped away, doing a quick crawl.

  ‘My dad swims ever so fast, doesn’t he?’ said Matty.

  ‘Mmm,’ I said, wondering if she were casting aspersions on my dad.

  ‘Let’s have a race,’ Matty suggested. ‘One, two, three, go!’

  She was half a width away before I could turn myself round and swim after her. I knew I was actually just as good a swimmer as Matty, if not better. I sped up determinedly, head down, arms pushing down, legs kicking hard. And then suddenly I was hit hard, knocked right down under the water.

  I thought someone was attacking me. I’d forgotten the big boys on the edge. One had forgotten to look below and had dived straight on top of me. I thought someone was deliberately trying to push me under the water to drown me. I opened my mouth to scream and water rushed in, choking me. I tried to kick to get my head above water but I floundered helplessly. I really was drowning!

  But then arms were around me, tugging me upwards, and suddenly I was free of the water, gasping in clear air. And so was Dad, his hair flattened in a fringe, water streaming off him.

  ‘Oh, Dad!’

  ‘Oh, Tilly!’

  We neither of us had any breath left till we got to the side. We clung there, both of us panting.

  ‘You saved me, Dad!’ I said at last. ‘And you can’t even swim.’

  ‘I can swim enough to save my girl,’ he said.

  Then Matty came swimming up to us, and Tom, desperately apologetic. We all got out and Angie and Lewis joined us, and after we’d all towelled ourselves nearly dry, we started on the picnic.

  Angie had made egg-salad brown baguettes, with carrot sticks and grapes to nibble. Our coffee-and-walnut cake wasn’t anywhere near as healthy – but it tasted marvellous. We’d forgotten to bring a knife so we had to tear chunks of cake off with our hands, which was great fun.

  Angie had brought paper cups so we could drink our apple juice more decorously. We all drank a toast to Dad for being such a hero, which made him blush. I licked the cream off my lips and leaned against my dad, smiling up at him.

  He was the best dad in the whole world.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I ATE SO many suppers the next week, it was a wonder I actually fitted into my bridesmaid’s dress on Saturday. Simon and Matthew asked Dad and me round to supper on Wednesday so we could discuss all the details for the Big Day. I’d already had fishcakes and peas at Angie’s, but I managed a big plate of bacon and potato pancakes and apple sauce and sour cream with Simon and Matthew.

  Then, on Friday after school, I had tomato soup and chicken salad at Angie’s. Afterwards Dad picked me up early and we went round to the Flowers’. Dear Mrs Flower had made fancy sandwiches and home-made sausage rolls and three kinds of cake – a Victoria sponge with buttercream, a chocolate cake with icing and a jam Swiss roll.

  ‘Help yourself, Tilly dear,’ said
Mrs Flower. ‘Take a selection of sandwiches.’

  ‘And don’t miss out on the sausage rolls,’ said Mr Flower. ‘I’ve already sampled two and they’re tip-top.’

  ‘And you must try a slice of each cake and tell me which you like best, and then we’ll have a go at baking it when we have our first cookery session,’ said Mrs Flower.

  ‘They’re all very yummy,’ said Mr Flower. ‘My wife’s a marvellous cook.’

  He said ‘my wife’ very proudly and Mrs Flower blushed.

  I very much wanted to sample a slice of each cake, but after I’d eaten a couple of sandwiches and the sausage roll I was starting to feel uncomfortably full. I reached for a slice of cake after all, but Dad was keeping an eye on me.

  ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Tilly. You don’t want to make yourself sick, pet. It’s a big day tomorrow!’

  ‘Why’s that then, Tilly?’ said Mrs Flower.

  ‘I’m going to be a bridesmaid again,’ I said.

  ‘Oh my, you are a one! Look, dearie, I’ll cut you a big slice of each cake and wrap them up in tinfoil and we’ll pop them in one of my cake tins. They’ll stay nice and fresh for several days, so you tuck in over the weekend.’

  ‘And meanwhile I’ll tuck in here, if I may,’ said Dad. ‘Tilly’s already had some supper at her friend’s house but I haven’t eaten anything since lunch, and that was only a bag of crisps.’

  ‘You need looking after, matey,’ said Mr Flower, offering him cake. ‘Follow my example and find yourself a nice new wife. Not that there’s anyone to compare with my Iris. I’ve got the pick of the bunch, I have,’ he said. ‘Pick of the bunch, see,’ he repeated, so we wouldn’t miss the pun.

  ‘All right, Albert, that’s enough!’ said Mrs Flower, though she giggled.

  ‘So, did you have a good time on the Isle of Wight?’ Dad asked, taking a huge bite of cake.

  ‘Marvellous!’ they said in unison.

  They told us all about their itinerary, day by day – the visits to neighbouring towns, the boat trip, the tour round Osborne.

  ‘And we went down to the beach most days,’ said Mr Flower.

  ‘Nothing beats sitting in a deckchair in the sunshine,’ said Mrs Flower.

  Mr Flower was very brown but Mrs Flower was still pink and white because she’d worn a sunhat, though she said her legs were brown because she’d taken her tights off every day to go paddling.

  When we’d finished eating, Dad sat in a chair and I sat on the pouffe beside him, while Mr and Mrs Flower sat on the sofa together, holding hands and looking very sweet. They’d brought us back a special present from the Isle of Wight – a little glass ornament in the shape of a lighthouse. It was filled with different coloured layers of special Isle of Wight sand. They’d bought one for themselves too. It was sitting on Mrs Flower’s mantelpiece, but they were going to take it with them and display it on Mr Flower’s windowsill next week when they were staying in his house.

  Dad had taken quite a few photos of their wedding day and showed them on his mobile phone, asking them to choose which ones they liked best so he could have them developed as proper glossy photos. He’d taken snaps of all the guests too.

  ‘Oh my, look at this one of your pal Julie!’ said Mr Flower. ‘She’s watching us have a dance, and her mouth is all puckered like a cat’s—’

  ‘Albert!’ Mrs Flower interrupted. She shook her head at the photo. ‘Poor Julie,’ she said gently.

  ‘Oh, look at this photo! That’s a beauty!’ said Mr Flower.

  It was one of me standing in front of them, holding out my dress, while Mr and Mrs Flower smiled at each other over my head.

  ‘Yes, that’s my favourite photo too,’ I said.

  ‘You were the star of our wedding,’ said Mrs Flower.

  ‘So who’s tying the knot tomorrow?’ asked Mr Flower.

  ‘It’s two lovely gentlemen called Simon and Matthew,’ I said.

  ‘Oh my, that’s very modern,’ said Mrs Flower.

  ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll make their wedding day too,’ said Mr Flower. ‘You must come round and tell us all about it.’

  ‘Yes, you will come round again soon, won’t you?’ asked Mrs Flower. ‘We consider you both family now.’

  ‘That makes us very happy,’ said Dad. ‘I wish we could stay longer today but I think I’d better take Tilly home. She needs to have an early night.’

  ‘Oh yes, we can’t have a bridesmaid with dark circles under her eyes,’ said Mrs Flower.

  I gave them both a kiss goodbye and thanked them for our present. Then we went home. I actually nodded off to sleep in the car, but when I was home in bed I found I was wide awake again.

  There was a full moon and my curtains weren’t drawn properly so I kept propping myself up on one elbow and peering up at the bridesmaid’s dress. It was grey instead of raspberry pink in this eerie light, but it still looked beautiful. I crawled down to the bottom of the bed so I could reach out and touch the hem. It was still silky soft. I stroked it carefully, and then held it to my cheek, loving the feel of it.

  I hoped I was going to be a good bridesmaid for Simon and Matthew. I couldn’t help feeling nervous, even though I’d been a bridesmaid before. I wasn’t quite sure what the ceremony at the registry office would be like. Simon and Matthew didn’t seem to know either. Perhaps there wouldn’t even be a ceremony. Maybe we’d just stand in a queue and then someone behind a counter would stamp a form to say they were married! If it was going to be just like visiting a post office, I’d have to be extra decorative and bridesmaidy to make up for the lack of ceremony. I’d have to psych myself up to walk around swishing my silk skirts and pointing my toes in my tight pink shoes, and maybe even attempt a little dance. My tummy turned over at the thought, but I liked Simon and Matthew so much that I wanted to make their wedding really special.

  Much to my relief, I didn’t have to do anything extra at the registry office. Someone had hung a frieze of silver wedding bells around the walls, and there were two big vases of roses and lilies. There were lots of people in colourful clothes sitting on rows of chairs and standing down the sides and at the back, all smiling happily at Simon and Matthew.

  Simon and Matthew were looking unexpectedly smart in grey suits. Simon had a blue shirt with a white collar and Matthew had a lilac shirt with little white flowers. They’d both had haircuts. Matthew had even trimmed his beard.

  They both told me I looked lovely, and then I walked hand in hand with them to stand in front of the registrar. I’d expected an official-looking man, very brisk and businesslike, but it turned out to be a blonde lady in a frilly white blouse and a pale blue suit and white high heels, as if she were a wedding guest too.

  She welcomed everyone in a friendly manner and said that it was a very happy day. Then she started the actual ceremony. She had a book in her hand, but she barely glanced at it, saying all the words looking straight at Simon and Matthew. When she declared they were married, everyone in the room started clapping and cheering and she didn’t seem to mind at all. Simon and Matthew hugged each other, and then they hugged me too.

  ‘Happy wedding day!’ I said to both of them.

  When we came out of the registry office, all the guests threw confetti and rosebuds over Simon and Matthew – and me too! I especially liked having rosebuds in my hair. Lots of people were taking photos on their smartphones – and there was one woman in jeans and a denim jacket who took more photos with a very elaborate, expensive-looking camera. She made Simon and Matthew stop and pose properly.

  ‘I’d love a picture of you with the little bridesmaid too,’ she said. ‘I hear she’s a rent-a-bridesmaid. Brilliant idea!’

  ‘Ask your dad, Tilly. This is our friend Jane who works for the local paper,’ said Matthew.

  ‘You mean Tilly’s photo might be in the paper too?’ said Dad. ‘I’m not really sure about that.’

  ‘Oh, Dad, I’m ever so sure! Oh please let my photo be in the paper. It would be so lovely if everyone
could see it!’ I exclaimed.

  I imagined Matty’s surprise. Cathy and Amanda and the whole class would be impressed. Simon might even stop picking his nose! The Flowers would be thrilled for me. Sid would laugh and show everyone the local newspaper. It would maybe spread far and wide. Perhaps some of the big daily papers would print my photo too. And maybe Mum would casually open a news-paper in some coffee shop and see me. Then she might feel proud of me and come rushing home to see me and . . .

  ‘All right then, Tilly, no need to look so wistful. You can have your photo taken,’ said Dad.

  So Jane took lots of photos of Simon and Matthew and me, and then we went down the road to La Terrazza, their favourite Italian restaurant, with all the guests following behind. It was like a carnival. I held Dad’s hand and skipped along. The restaurant had arranged a long table at one end, and then lots of circular tables filling the room. The wedding guests sat here and there, calling to each other, pointing out spare seats.

  Dad and I hovered, not quite knowing where to sit down.

  ‘Come and sit with us!’ Simon called.

  ‘I want Tilly next to me!’ Matthew shouted.

  So Dad and I got to sit at the top table, with Simon and Matthew, Simon’s mum and sister, and Matthew’s mum and dad and very old granny in a wheelchair. We all had pink champagne! Well, I had one tiny sip, and then my own special glass of pink lemonade with a fancy straw and a little cocktail stick of fruit.

  We all toasted Simon and Matthew and wished them every happiness – and then Simon and Matthew stood up and toasted me!

  ‘Here’s to Tilly, the prettiest little bridesmaid in the world,’ said Matthew.

  ‘To Tilly, who’s made our wedding so special,’ said Simon.

  All the guests stood up and raised their glasses and shouted out, ‘To Tilly!’ One of the ladies at the table nearest us had an especially big smile on her face. She was very curvy and looked amazing in a tight red dress with a white patent belt. Her long blonde hair waved to her shoulders. It was tucked behind one ear, showing her little silver-moon earring.