‘Not really,’ said Fiona. ‘I haven’t eaten all week but I still weigh the same as I did last week.’
‘But you’ll look amazing in it!’ said Hattie.
‘You looked really lovely in it at your last fitting,’ said Sheila.
‘It’s really hard to lose weight if you haven’t much to lose,’ said the make-up artist. ‘I’m Pippa, by the way.’ She extended a hand to Hattie.
‘I don’t know what Lance is going to say,’ said Fiona. ‘He could call off the wedding again.’
‘He’s not going to see you coming up the aisle on your father’s arm and think: She’s too fat, I won’t do it,’ said Hattie, hoping some straight talking would help.
‘He might,’ said Fiona, barely audible.
‘Well, if he does,’ said Sheila bracingly, ‘we’ll have the party anyway. It’ll be fun!’
There was a silence when everyone in the room, even Pippa, seemed to give the impression that they felt a party without a wedding would be more fun than with one.
‘Glass of Prosecco, anyone?’ said Sheila.
‘Actually, I’d love a cup of tea!’ said Hattie. ‘I feel I should keep my wits about me.’
‘Why?’ asked Fiona. ‘Have a glass of Prosecco if you want one!’
‘I’m a sort of bridesmaid,’ said Hattie. ‘I might need to sew up your skirt, or send out for fish and chips. Anything!’ She laughed in a lighthearted way that didn’t convince anyone.
‘I think some Prosecco would be a good idea,’ said Pippa. ‘I’m nearly finished here – I’ll have to touch uplater anyway. We can have a glass and then I’ll do Fiona’s hair. After that we can put on the dress and see just how beautiful you are!’
Sheila found a bottle and some glasses and then handed the bottle to Hattie to open. ‘Sorry,’ said Sheila. ‘I’ve never been able to open bottles of fizzy wine.’
Hattie poured the wine, longing for a cup of tea even more now. Then there was a knock on the door.
‘Photographer?’ said a smiling woman. ‘A couple of candid shots?’ Her smile froze slightly as she looked around.
‘You’ll have a glass of fizz with us?’ said Pippa. ‘I think a few bubbles would make us all feel – weddingy!’ She smiled.
Pippa was doing her best to keep everyone cheerful. The photographer took some shots of Fiona with her heated rollers although it was obvious – to Hattie, at least – that she was not looking the radiant bride everyone expected her to be.
Sheila disappeared to make Hattie’s tea and Pippa passed around glasses. Hattie didn’t think that Prosecco was going to help Fiona but it probably wouldn’t hurt either. She might need a little Dutch courage if she was to be persuaded to call off the wedding herself. Hattie checked her watch: not long until Nick’s plan could swing into action; she hoped they’d got it right. Everything seemed to be taking so long! And the little bridesmaids hadn’t arrived with their mothers yet.
‘All right,’ said the photographer. ‘Mum’s back! Hair and make-up look amazing – time for the dress!’
She clicked away as the dress was removed from its cover and Fiona slipped off her dressing gown.
‘Let’s have a shot of the bride’s mum doing up those lovely pearl buttons on the back.’
Sheila did her best but after a couple of moments she gave up. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve got a bit of arthritis in my thumb. Hattie, you do the buttons up for me. Pretend to be me.’
Hattie obliged, and kept her face out of shot as the buttons were done up.
‘What about a shot with the bride and her dad? That can be very sweet. Proud father and beautiful bride…’ suggested Pippa.
Sheila shook her head. ‘Not now. I’m afraid Malcolm has got “father of the bride” nerves so he’s busy pacing downstairs.’
‘What’s he worrying about, Mum?’ said Fiona, now buttoned into her dress, her arms covered in delicate lace.
‘He says he doesn’t want you to be late, but it’s not really about that. I happen to know he’s been thinking about your wedding since the day you were born,’ said Sheila. ‘He may have stressed himself out a little.’
Fiona was clearly taken aback. ‘I don’t want to be late either,’ she said eventually. ‘Lance specifically said he didn’t want to be waiting like a lemon for me to turn up.’
