by Nigel Smith
“I told her about the wedding because we’re such good friends,” said Darius, grabbing Nat by the hand. Nat froze in shock. “We’re almost family and that’s what weddings are all about, right?”
Nat was going to say something but Darius quickly shoved another piece of cake in her mouth. She went red and her eyes bulged.
“We do everything together. I can’t imagine not inviting her to anything that we do.”
“Oh in that case, I’m sure we all feel the same about Buttf— I mean Nathalia,” said PC Fiona Sweetly. “You MUST come to our wedding.”
“That’s unexpected,” said Darius.
Nat looked at him closely. He was definitely up to something. But what?
“We’ve set a date and everything,” said Fiona, “the last Saturday of the month.”
Nat’s heart somersaulted. THAT WAS THE SAME AS Tiffannee’S WEDDING. She realised what Darius was up to! She would have hugged him, if he wasn’t so utterly revolting.
“That’s if we can ever have one,” said Fiona, angrily. “No one will give us a venue for the party, so it looks like the wedding will have to be postponed.”
Oh no, thought Nat.
Just then, Dad came in. “Hello everyone, I—” Dad looked around at the tidy room. “Sorry, wrong house,” he said, making to go out again.
“No, right house, Dad,” said Nat, “and look, this is Fiona. Oswald’s fiancée.”
“Um, congratulations?” said Dad.
“And I’m very much invited to the wedding,” said Nat, quickly, “and I have to go. Can’t say no to a bride and I’ve said yes. I’m definitely going to her wedding.”
“Oh, well that’s very, ah, nice,” fibbed Dad, “very nice indeed. Weddings, love ’em. Can’t get enough of them, I say!”
“Oswald’s in the back garden. You should go and say congratulations to him too,” said Nat.
“Hmmm, I suppose so,” said Dad, nervously, heading out there. As soon as he’d gone, Nat smiled her nicest smile at Fiona.
Fiona carried on. “Yes, it’s terrible. We’d set the date for the end of the month, and sent out all the invitations and everything, but we can’t find anywhere to have the party. Everywhere I try says they’re full for the next five years. Even the big hotel in town said they weren’t taking bookings until next century.”
“Oh,” said Nat, “you didn’t tell them you were marrying Oswald, did you?”
“Of course I did,” snapped Fiona. “Why?”
“No reason,” said Nat and they sat in polite silence until Dad came back.
When Fiona told Dad that they couldn’t find anywhere to have the wedding reception, he said:
“You didn’t tell them you were marrying Oswald, did you?”
“YES, of course I did!” snapped Fiona, even more snappily. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“Well, that’s your problem right there,” said Dad cheerfully. “No one wants a Bagley wedding party under their roof. Can you imagine?”
Nat winced. Fiona grew even crosser.
“What’s wrong with a Bagley wedding?” she said.
“There’s nothing wrong with the wedding bit,” said Dad. “It’s more the massive drunken riot after the wedding that people get upset by.”
Fiona sighed. “He really does have a teensy bit of a bad reputation, doesn’t he? I hadn’t thought of that. All of us down the police station love a Bagley wedding. We all get overtime and danger money. I’m actually paying for our honeymoon with the money I earned after the last Bagley wedding.”
“That’s quite romantic,” said Dad, “in a weird way.”
“Yes, but what are we going to do?” wailed Fiona. “We’re running out of time. We need to get married on that very day.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Nat.
“I went to see Merlin and he was quite sure of it. He said the giblets were very clear.”
“Merlin?” said Dad.
“Giblets?” said Darius.
“Absolutely,” said Nat.
“Merlin Tolpuddle is our New-Age astrologer and shaman. You might know him as a white witch,” said Fiona.
“Or you might know him as the bloke who runs the dry-cleaner’s,” said Darius, quietly.
“He reads giblets, the way some of the lesser wizards read tea leaves,” said Fiona. “Merlin swears by giblets; says you get a much clearer reading.”
A bit of hedge sailed in through the back door.
Literally everyone in my life is stark raving mad, thought Nat, picking twigs out of her hair.
“Merlin’s very kindly agreed to marry us,” said Fiona.
“Is he a vicar?” said Nat.
“Oh, don’t be so 20th century,” said Fiona. “Lots of people can marry you these days. He got a special certificate to do it.”
“From Gandalf,” sniggered Darius.
Fiona scowled at him. “Actually he got it online, which just shows that you can be New Age AND new technology at the same time,” she said, “so there.”
“Nat’s Dad’s brilliant at organising weddings,” said Darius innocently. “You should see the amazing one he’s doing for Nat’s cousin. It’s ace. He’s great.”
If Fiona had known Darius better, she might have become suspicious at this point. But she didn’t, and so she wasn’t.
Nat knew Darius, and she realised what he was up to. He was tempting Dad…
“You definitely should get him to help, especially with the entertainment,” added Darius. “He’s awesome at that.”
Nat knew Dad was RUBBISH at that.
But she knew – and crafty Darius knew – that Dad thought he was BRILLIANT at it.
“He’s got this great idea for a new party game, called joke-a-oke,” said Darius, “and he’s in this fantastic band. What a shame you can’t find somewhere to have your wedding.”
“Can’t you? Oh, I’m sure I could find you somewhere to have your party,” said Dad, “and I’d happily do the entertainment too,” he added. “All part of the service!”
Darius looked at Nat. He sat back, as if to say: mission accomplished, I am lord of all the evil plans.
Dad looked at Nat. He sat back, as if to say: I am lord of all wedding entertainment.
“Oh wow, that would be fantastic!” said Fiona. “Thank you so much.”
“My pleasure,” said Dad. “I’m a bit of a wedding guru these days.”
“Would you really help us?” said Darius, laying it on a bit thick.
“Of course, Darius. First, I’ll find you a place to have your wedding party. Then I’ll throw you the best party this town’s ever seen!”
Nat cringed. Still, even being forced to endure dad’s terrible entertainment ideas was better than being a Perfect First Assistant Fairy Princess Bridesmaid. She could always hide from the former no such luck with the latter…
“You’re amazing!” said Fiona, running over and hugging dad so hard his eyes bulged. She ran out to tell Oswald and came back with a chainsawed bunch of flowers. She handed them to Dad.
“It’s his way of saying thanks,” she said.
“So – when do you want the wedding?”
Fiona told him.
“That date rings a bell,” said Dad. Then Nat watched as he realised… it was the same date as Tiffannee’s!
Dad went very pale indeed.
Darius grinned an evil grin at Nat, who watched excitedly to see what Dad would do.
“Oh dear,” said Dad, “now I hope you don’t think I’m going to let you down, but—”
Fiona interrupted: “As do I,” she said, in a steely way. “Oswald hates being let down. He really HATES it.”
There was a massive roar as the chainsaw went into action again.
Dad sat back as if to say: I am Lord of Totally Doomed.
“That was rotten luck,” said Dad, looking pale as they drove away. “What are the chances? Two weddings, at the very same time!”
“I know, Dad, and I’m really upset,” said Nat, trying de
sperately to stop giggling. “Obviously I have to go to Oswald’s, but I ever so much wanted to be a Fairy Princess Bridesmaid. What a shame. What a terrible crying shame.”
Her toes were literally wiggling with naughty pleasure inside her trainers.
“Really?” Dad looked at her suspiciously. “You sure your pants aren’t on fire?”
“Nope, quite cold,” said Nat merrily, crossing her fingers behind her back. “But we’ll HAVE to go to Oswald’s wedding now, won’t we?” said Nat. “Did you see what his chainsaw did to the heads of those flowers?”
Dad had that panicked look on his face that Nat recognised, the one he usually only got when Mum came home earlier than expected and the house was a mess and he was caught sitting in his Y-fronts on the sofa in front of the TV eating pork pies and pretending to write jokes.
“Oh heck, look, love, er, leave it to me. I’ll think of something. Don’t say anything to Tiffannee, OR – AND THIS IS WAY MORE IMPORTANT – your mum.”
Nat had a great week at school that week, partly at the thought of not having to be a Perfect Fairy Princess Bridesmaid, and partly because Darius wasn’t around much to ruin it. After a million warnings and about 600 red slips, he’d been sent to the Room of Doom, where the naughtiest kids at school got sent to cool off.
That wasn’t the school’s proper name for the room, of course. The proper name was:
The Super Happy Quiet Area and Time to Unwind Unit.
But everyone called it The Room of Doom, except for the kids who called it The Slammer. Or the Pit, The Cooler, The Hole, The Dungeon, or The Tomb.
Teachers just called it The Bagley Hotel.
Whatever it was called, it got shouty, twitchy, burpy, bogey-flicking Darius out of the way for a while, which meant Nat could enjoy the company of relatively normal human beings, like Penny Posnitch, Nat’s best non-chimp friend.
“I don’t know why you’re making so much fuss about being a bridesmaid. I think you’d make a good bridesmaid,” said Penny, on Friday lunchtime. “You should stop trying to get out of it. I’d love to be a fairy princess.”
Yes, but you think you ARE a fairy princess anyway, thought Nat, shaking her head and smiling affectionately.
“No room can hold… Darius the Super Ninja!” said Darius, sneaking up behind the girls and dropping a woodlouse down Penny Posnitch’s collar.
“EEEEW!” shrieked Penny, running off and leaving her shepherd’s pie untouched. To be fair, everyone else’s shepherd’s pie was untouched too; it was rank.
Darius sat next to Nat and started shovelling down the leftover pie, eating quickly, with his mouth open.
Nat watched him and pulled a face. “It’s like looking at a washing machine full of sick,” said Nat, probably making it worse. The rest of the girls at the table fled too.
“Got rid of ’em for you,” said Darius, “thank me later.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to mix with normal kids this week?” said Nat. Darius just looked at her and grinned.
“Very funny,” said Nat, realising what he meant.
“Your dad fixed up Oswald’s wedding yet?” said Darius.
“Not yet, but I’m sure he will,” she said.
“All the Bagleys are starting to arrive already, so I hope for his sake he will.”
“They’re not all as bad as Oswald, are they?” said Nat anxiously.
“Oswald’s the black sheep of the Bagleys,” said Darius.
“Oh that’s good,” said Nat, relieved.
“Yeah,” grinned Darius, “he’s the good one.”
Nat smiled a thin smile.
“Don’t forget, Buttface, when you get out of your cousin’s wedding you owe me a favour. We still have a deal.”
“Yeah, whatevs,” said Nat. “As yet, Dad hasn’t had the courage to tell Tiffannee, which means I’m not out of it yet, which means I still have to go to her stupid Bridal Shower tomorrow.”
“Remember the plan. Play along like you love it,” said Darius, “then no one will know you tried to get out of it. Right, I’m gone.”
He ran off as a furious Mr Frantz appeared, shouting.
“Vere did you go you terrible boy? Get back into ze Bagley Hotel, ach I mean ze slammer, no, the hole, ach, the happy Quiet box.”
Dad’s week was going way less well than Nat’s. He had spent every waking hour so far trying to find a venue for a Bagley wedding, and wasn’t having any luck.
“It’s like I’m trying to organise the annual general meeting of the ‘We love Mad Axemen Society’,” complained Dad when Nat got home that night. There were dark circles under his eyes. “Plus there’s a billion and one things to sort out still for Tiffannee.”
Dad ladled out their pork pie and baked bean surprise dinner. Nat grimaced; Mum’s not in for tea then, she thought.
“But why are you even still planning Tiffannee’s wedding? Haven’t you told her we’re not going yet? Can’t you just tell her now so I don’t have to go to her stupid Bridal Shower tomorrow?” moaned Nat.
“I can’t tell her, no, because there ISN’T a Bagley wedding yet,” said Dad, “and there won’t be unless I can find a venue that will have them.”
Nat began to panic. “But you HAVE to find them a venue, Dad…”
“Yes, but on the other hand, if I find a venue for Oswald’s wedding then you won’t be able to be a bridesmaid at Tiffannee’s wedding, and there’ll be a terrible family row,” he said. “And your mum will kill me.”
Nat sighed. “Yes but—”
“—if I can’t find a venue for Oswald’s wedding,” interrupted Dad, “there’ll be a terrible row with Oswald.”
“And HE’LL kill you,” said Nat. “In a WORSE way.”
Dad rubbed his bald spot, a sure sign he was worried.
“Well we can’t be in two places at once, Dad,” said Nat lightly.
Dad paused, thinking hard.
Nat was going to regret saying that…
That night in her room, Nat went online to read about bridal showers. She knew the other bridesmaids would be there and didn’t want to embarrass herself by not knowing what to do.
After an hour she turned her laptop off in disgust. Bridal showers, she decided, were UTTERLY LAME.
As far as Nat could make out, a Bridal Shower was a soppy little party just for girls. Everyone gets together and talks about how great the bride is and gives her even more presents and attention.
Getting married is like having your own personal Christmas, Nat decided.
What was filling her with horror was THE GAMES. Everyone was expected to play silly party games, and Nat thought that they all sounded really embarrassing. They were all about secrets, or making you do awful dares.
It was as if someone had invented the absolute worst kind of party and was making her go.
At least Mum will be coming, thought Nat. She’ll look after me.
But when Nat heard the front door go later that night and Mum came in to say good night, she broke the bad news… Mum WASN’T coming.
“I’m truly sorry,” said Mum, passing Nat a present for Tiffannee and not looking sorry one bit, “but I’ve been called away on very urgent business for a few days. I have to leave first thing in the morning. You know how it is.”
Yes I do know how it is, Mum, Nat thought, crossly, how it is that you always manage to get out of doing rubbish things.
“Remind me, what is it you actually do, Mum?” asked Nat. Darius was convinced Mum was a spy, and every so often, Nat believed him.
“Oh, it’s just boring old business,” said Mum. “If I told you, you’d be asleep in two minutes. In fact, I’m boring myself just thinking about it. Boring boring yawn yawn.”
“Does Dad know what you do?” Nat said, suspiciously.
“You father doesn’t know what HE does,” joked Mum.
Nat giggled.
Mum always made her laugh.
“You don’t mind me going do you?” said Mum.
Nat shook
her head and realised now she wasn’t even fibbing; although she was worried about the bridal shower, she knew that the longer mum was out of the way, the more chance she had of achieving her plan of avoiding Tiffannee’s fairy bridesmaid disaster.
“I have to say I think your dad’s doing a pretty good job of the wedding so far,” said Mum. “I know the family wanted ME to organise it, but perhaps we should all have a bit more faith in him.”
“Interesting idea,” said Nat.
“Now get some sleep,” said Mum, “and I’ll be back before you can say BRIDAL SHOWER.”
Sleep? thought Nat, glumly, with those bride-zillas waiting for me? I’ll be lucky.
The bridal shower was being held at Chief Bridesmaid Daisy Wetwipe’s flat. Daisy opened the door to Nat and fixed her face in a TOTALLY FAKE smile.
“SOOOO glad you could come,” fibbed Daisy, grabbing the present and shoving her through into the sitting room. “Look, everyone, it’s lovely, super-keen, bestest assistant Chief Bridesmaid, Nathalia Bumole.”
Everyone in the room laughed. Nat winced. She hated anyone knowing her horrible surname.
“It’s pronounced Bew-mole-ay,” she said. “It just looks funny written down.”
This got even more laughs.
“Didn’t I tell you she was totes hilarious?” said Annie Chicken, flashing Nat a mean smile.
If you lot were spies, you’d be found out in ten seconds, thought Nat glumly. You’re all rubbish fakes.
Nat looked around the room. There were at least twenty women in the room, including the remaining bridesmaids, who were all wearing plastic tiaras with…
I’M A BRIDESMAID. ‘MAID’ FOR TROUBLE!
…printed on them.
Tiffannee, who was actually looking quite beautiful in a simple coral-coloured dress plonked a bridesmaid tiara on Nat’s head.
“SO glad you came,” said Tiffannee, giving her a squeeze. “And how’s my favourite little fairy princess today?”
“Incredibly happy. Why are you asking, it’s not like I’m trying to get out of it or anything,” gabbled Nat, guiltily. She quickly poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a big glug. Tiffannee looked a little confused. “Oh, um, well that’s good. Have you met everyone?”
Nat didn’t recognise the other women, but guessed they were Tiffannee’s friends, along with a smattering of those relatives who only appear at weddings and funerals. She was introduced to everyone. It seemed all Tiffannee’s friends were called things like Indigo Sparkle and all the relatives were called Doris.