Yours Truly Read Free Page A

so pleased with themselves. They genuinely think they've done a good deed. And they are planning the entire wedding in only four weeks after all...
    “ Come on then, we want to see what it looks like, ” urges Dionne, eyes sparkling like… diamante.
    Well... I suppose there's no harm in trying it on, is there?
     
     
    “ It looks extraordinary! ” mum breathes as I shuffle into the kitchen to show them the dress. Her dark brown eyes are shining with tears of joy. Wow. It must look better than I thought it would. Maybe, shockingly, they do know me better then I know myself.
    While I was getting changed they've brought down the full length mirror from my bedroom and propped it up against our kitchen table. Dionne pours everyone a glass of wine before gesturing that I should have a look at myself in the mirror.
    I warily manoeuvre myself around to the other side of the table, being careful not to knock over the pan stand or the vegetable rack with the massive skirt. Nervously, I glance up at my reflection…
    Wow.
    Mum’s ‘Extraordinary’ is right. Horrendous, horrifying, horrible are also suitable adjectives.
    I gawk numbly into the mirror, entranced by the way the diamante glistens under the fluorescent kitchen lights. The flab from my waist is compressed into this i r idescent bodice and is now making a bid for freedom by spilling over the top of my corset. I turn around to see the view from behind. Back fat. Definite fat of the back.
    “ We are so GOOD! ” cheers Dionne. “ You look just like Katie Price. Except you’ve got no tits. Maybe you should buy some tits before the wedding, and then you’ll look perfect. ” She grabs her own surgically enhanced breasts to demonstrate.
    I look down towards my 32 Bs and sigh. They’re not that bad. They'd be improved considerably if I wasn't wearing a dress that flattened them into total oblivion.
    Nope. No. Nuh uh. Noooooooo. This is not what I want to look like on my wedding day. I wanted Audrey Hepburn in Funny Face not Bridal Drag Queen in a Gypsy Wedding Sequin Frenzy. I take a breath. I must tell them. Meg said to stand up for myself, and that is what I’ll do, damn it. I’ll tell them that this is just not the dress for me. It’s not like they can force me to wear it.
    “ Mum, Dionne. I don’t quite… ” My voice goes all scratchy. I clear my throat and try again. “ I don’t think - ”
    “ You look just like I always wanted to look on my wedding day, ” Mum interrupts, welling up. “ I would have done, if i t wasn’t for your bastard of a d ad spending all our money on that stupid motorbike of his. ”
    Dionne pats her gently on the shoulder.
    “ Aw, Mum… I’m sorry, but - ”
    “ Just imagine. Diamante everywhere, ” pipes up Dionne, brightly.
    “ I’m not sure it’s really me, ” I eventually get out, turning this way and that in the mirror.
    My mother’s face hardens, imperceptibly.
    “ Look, Natalie, ” she says. “ Dionne and I are trying to produce the perfect wedding, in only few short weeks. It isn’t easy. ” She takes a shaky breath. “ Do you not want us to be involved with this? ”
    She looks so sad.
    “ Of course I want you to be involved, ” I soothe.
    I do. I can’t plan all of this on my own, and Mum and Dionne together are like an unstoppable whirlwind of productivity. When they’re around things get done, things get sorted.
    “ Your Dad would have loved that dress, ” Mum says again, dabbing her eyes carefully so as not to smudge her mascara.
    “ I know Mum. I know. ” I neglect to remind her that Dad's not dead, just buggered off to India and we really shouldn't care whether he'd like it or not. It’s just us now.
    I glance back down at the dress and notice that all the pearls have been stitched on in the shape of little love hearts. Jesus.
    “ Are you not sure I should wear something a bit... simpler? I don’t want to look… flashy, ” I try.
    “ Definitely not, ” says Dionne, hands on hips.