“ The idea of a wedding dress is that it makes you look better than usual. Not being funny or anything, but who wants to see the same old boring Natalie rolling down the aisle? ”
Mum wipes her eyes and juts out her chin.
“ This wedding is not just about you, love. It’s about all of us. Our family. God knows we could use a bit of happiness since…since. ” She buries her face into Dionne’s sili cone bosom and sobs loudly. Shit .
“ I’m sorry Mum. I don’t want to upset you. I really don’t. But - ”
“ That is the dress you are wearing. ” She looks up sharply. “ A proper wedding dress. Not some flimsy, nothing dress you could wear any other time. ”
I don't say anything for a moment, just stare into the mirror. I look exactly like a toilet roll holder doll.
“ I'm trying to help you to make the best of yourself, Natalie, ” M um goes on. “ Do you not need my help? ” Her voice wobbles again. “ You don't, do you! You think I'm useless. Your Dad thought I was pointless and now you do too. ”
She dissolves into another round of tears and presses a hand to her chest, her expression pained.
“ Mum , are you alright? ” I ask, worriedly.
“ It’s just indigestion, ” she sniffs. “ I’ll be fine. I’ll take a Rennie. ”
I don’t have any other choice.
“ Fine. We’ll get this one. ” I plaster a smile onto my face and pat Mum on the arm.
“ Fantastic, darling! You’ll be a princess! ”
Mum and Dionne grin at each other and clink glasses. I smile weakly, take a glass of wine from the table beside me and neck it in one.
The dress of devastation is hung up on my bedroom door, silently mocking me. I glower at it and frown. A sequin flickers and sparkles under the lights, like an evil sequin wink.
For the past two hours M um and Dionne have been chattering away about the wedding; how brilliant it’s going to be, how gorgeous I’m going to look (if I manage to drop a dress size in the next 30 days), whether there’s such a thing as edible diamante for the wedding favours and the probability of our vicar agreeing to wear a bedazzled dog collar. So me wearing a disco ball Barbie dress isn’t such a big sacrifice, when you really think about it. Considering how much they like it, and how much of a favour they’re doing me, planning the wedding and all. It’s the very least I can do.
I glance up at the alarm clock on my bedside table. Eight o’clock already. Olly should be round at any moment. Almost every weeknight he picks me up after he’s finished work at Dino's Suits and Ties. We head over to his executive apartment in Deansgate where we have dinner and then snuggle up in front of the TV with a blanket. It’s lovely just hanging out with him. Lovely, cosy, quiet and… just lovely.
I'm trying to slick back my terrible hair with styling gel when Dionne bursts into my bedroom. She stops before the wedding dress and presses an acrylic nail adorned hand to her chest.
“ I can’t believe you actually get to wear it! ”
Me either.
“ I know! Lucky me! ”
“ You are like, so super jammy… Anyway I was wondering if you'd do your little sister a massive favour? ”
A massive favour. I think back to other massive favours Dionne has asked of me over the years. Like that massive favour when she got me to break up with her high school boyfriend for her. The poor lad snotted and cried on me for two hours before trying to cop a feel. And then there was the massive favour last month when her kitchen flooded and I had to clean it up because she had a vital eyebrow appointment at the beauty salon. Once we’re living next door to each other, I suspect the massive favours will be coming thick and fast.
“ Go on? ” I say wearily.
“ Bull just phoned and said he's going to take me for a romantic Madras on Saturday and I was wondering if you’d babysit Jean-Paul Gaultier. Please. ”
As massive favours go it's pretty tame. But Saturday night? The night I
Mum wipes her eyes and juts out her chin.
“ This wedding is not just about you, love. It’s about all of us. Our family. God knows we could use a bit of happiness since…since. ” She buries her face into Dionne’s sili cone bosom and sobs loudly. Shit .
“ I’m sorry Mum. I don’t want to upset you. I really don’t. But - ”
“ That is the dress you are wearing. ” She looks up sharply. “ A proper wedding dress. Not some flimsy, nothing dress you could wear any other time. ”
I don't say anything for a moment, just stare into the mirror. I look exactly like a toilet roll holder doll.
“ I'm trying to help you to make the best of yourself, Natalie, ” M um goes on. “ Do you not need my help? ” Her voice wobbles again. “ You don't, do you! You think I'm useless. Your Dad thought I was pointless and now you do too. ”
She dissolves into another round of tears and presses a hand to her chest, her expression pained.
“ Mum , are you alright? ” I ask, worriedly.
“ It’s just indigestion, ” she sniffs. “ I’ll be fine. I’ll take a Rennie. ”
I don’t have any other choice.
“ Fine. We’ll get this one. ” I plaster a smile onto my face and pat Mum on the arm.
“ Fantastic, darling! You’ll be a princess! ”
Mum and Dionne grin at each other and clink glasses. I smile weakly, take a glass of wine from the table beside me and neck it in one.
The dress of devastation is hung up on my bedroom door, silently mocking me. I glower at it and frown. A sequin flickers and sparkles under the lights, like an evil sequin wink.
For the past two hours M um and Dionne have been chattering away about the wedding; how brilliant it’s going to be, how gorgeous I’m going to look (if I manage to drop a dress size in the next 30 days), whether there’s such a thing as edible diamante for the wedding favours and the probability of our vicar agreeing to wear a bedazzled dog collar. So me wearing a disco ball Barbie dress isn’t such a big sacrifice, when you really think about it. Considering how much they like it, and how much of a favour they’re doing me, planning the wedding and all. It’s the very least I can do.
I glance up at the alarm clock on my bedside table. Eight o’clock already. Olly should be round at any moment. Almost every weeknight he picks me up after he’s finished work at Dino's Suits and Ties. We head over to his executive apartment in Deansgate where we have dinner and then snuggle up in front of the TV with a blanket. It’s lovely just hanging out with him. Lovely, cosy, quiet and… just lovely.
I'm trying to slick back my terrible hair with styling gel when Dionne bursts into my bedroom. She stops before the wedding dress and presses an acrylic nail adorned hand to her chest.
“ I can’t believe you actually get to wear it! ”
Me either.
“ I know! Lucky me! ”
“ You are like, so super jammy… Anyway I was wondering if you'd do your little sister a massive favour? ”
A massive favour. I think back to other massive favours Dionne has asked of me over the years. Like that massive favour when she got me to break up with her high school boyfriend for her. The poor lad snotted and cried on me for two hours before trying to cop a feel. And then there was the massive favour last month when her kitchen flooded and I had to clean it up because she had a vital eyebrow appointment at the beauty salon. Once we’re living next door to each other, I suspect the massive favours will be coming thick and fast.
“ Go on? ” I say wearily.
“ Bull just phoned and said he's going to take me for a romantic Madras on Saturday and I was wondering if you’d babysit Jean-Paul Gaultier. Please. ”
As massive favours go it's pretty tame. But Saturday night? The night I
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