Nigel Smith - Nathalia Buttface and the Totally Embarrassing Bridesmaid Disaster

Nat groaned. She hadn’t thought it possible, but this wedding was getting WORSE by the second.

“How’s the brilliant plan coming on?” she hissed at Darius. He rubbed his stomach, which was as tight as a drum.

“Too full too think,” he burped, contentedly.

Yes, thought Nat, worse and worse.

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A little later and the sun had come out and Dad had stumbled on a lovely tea room in the kind of perfect, rose-clad cottage that make Americans go weak at the knees.

“Lemme tell you about our vision for the wedding,” said Hiram J Loudmouth, as they sat in the little garden at the back of DINGLEY DELL TEA ROOMS AND COUNTRY FAYRE SHOPPE. He munched on an enormous slice of Victoria sponge, scattering crumbs as he spoke.

“Magical, fairytale, ye olde worlde, English, retro, vintage, countryside, historical, garden,” said Tiffannee, counting off the ‘buzz words’ on her fingers.

“It’s modern, but with a traditional twist,” agreed Hiram.

“Yes, yes, we know,” said Nat, “we’ve been organising it for you for ages now.”

“Yes, but I think we can do more ,” he said. “Since I’ve been here, I’ve been stuffing myself with your culture.”

And cake , thought Nat, wiping crumbs off her top.

“You’ve got a church booked, you’ve got six Perfect Fairy Princesses…” began Dad.

“Five,” corrected Tiffannee, “one so-called friend has let me down and won’t even say why!”

That’ll be hair and eyebrow-less Bella then , thought Nat.

“You know, Tiffannee cried for two solid hours when she found out,” said Hiram. “The hurt that selfish woman has caused…”

“At least she wasn’t family,” breathed Tiffannee. “Can you imagine?”

I’m trying not to , thought Nat, wincing inwardly.

“…and then you’re going to that posh castle golf club hotel where there’s a lunch and then a band and a disco,” said Dad, carrying on. “And wedding centrepieces,” he added, quickly.

“OK so we got the basics ,” said Hiram, “but where’s the maypole?”

Dunno where it is but I know where I’d like to put it , thought Nat.

“Erm…” said Dad.

“Maypole. We want old English, right? So we need morris dancers, a jack in the green, a troupe of mummers…”

“…some jugglers, clowns, folk singers, food vans, hog roast,” Tiffannee finished.

“Let me write all this down,” said Dad, confused. “Do you want these before or after the disco?”

An hour later Dad’s notebook was full and he looked frazzled.

“We’ll never get all this organised in time,” Nat said to Darius, when the pair of them went inside to order more tea. Darius looked thoughtful.

“Keep agreeing to do everything she wants. You have to look like you really REALLY want to go,” he said.

“It’ll make your excuse later look way more believable.”

“Yes, yes, but what’s my excuse gonna be ?”

“One thing at a time,” said Darius, sticking his fingers in YE OLDE COUNTRY JAMME pots.

Nat had to listen to more wedding drivel all afternoon. She tried to look interested but probably failed. And then the loud American grabbed her and said: “You know, you’re very important to Tiffannee, Nathalia!”

“Why’s that?” said Nat.

“Tiffannee had a dream of six Fairy Princess Bridesmaids and you were chosen sixth. Which makes you top of the Fairy Princess Bridesmaid pyramid. The most important.”

“Or it makes me the last princess chosen which makes me bottom of the fairy princess pile. The LEAST important,” said Nat.

“Plus you’re family ,” said Tiffannee, giving Nat a little squeeze, then smoothing out her dress. There it is again, thought Nat, that rotten word ‘family.’ Every time she tried to get out of anything recently, someone would say: ‘it’s for family’, as if that explained everything. It was driving her bananas.

“In fact, I have an announcement to make. Now Bella has deserted me, I want you to be… Second Assistant Bridesmaid!” said Tiffannee, grandly.

“Yay,” said Nat, not very grandly at all. She scowled at Darius.

“But we do have one teensy weensy problem,” said Tiffannee, “and we need your help.”

Nat was going to complain, but Darius nudged her and raised a crafty eyebrow.

Here goes with the evil plan , thought Nat. “OK,” she said. “Of course I’ll help. I’d love to help.”

“Is it about the entertainment?” said Dad excitedly.

“No,” said Hiram.

“I’ve had some genius ideas about that,” said Dad.

“It’s not about the entertainment,” said Tiffannee.

“Let me just tell you anyway,” burbled Dad.

Nat cringed. Dad was always keen to do the entertainment, anywhere and everywhere they went.

And it was always a total disaster. From school quiz nights ending in riots to birthday parties ending in casualty, from holidays that landed them in jail to discos that ended with her naked baby botty projected ten metres high, Dad was the WORST entertainer on the planet.

“Joke-a-oke!” said Dad. Everyone looked blank, “It’s like karaoke, but people stand up and tell great jokes from a screen, rather than sing rubbish songs.”

“Whose jokes?” said Tiffannee.

“My jokes,” said Dad.

“No,” said Hiram, Tiffannee and Nat together.

“OK, then how about I get my old college band back together, just for your wedding?” said Dad, hopefully. “King Ivor and the Hunnypots — we could do a great set for you, no problem.”

“Dad, no one liked your band when you were young and thin and had hair,” said Nat.

Dad just laughed.

“He can’t resist it,” said Nat, annoyed, “he’ll do anything to get attention, he’s worse than a bride.” She looked at Tiffannee. “No offence,” she added, quickly.

Darius said nothing, but Nat noticed he was looking at Dad with the weird expression that she knew meant he’d had an idea or else was about to armpit fart the national anthem.

“Back to me, people,” said Tiffannee, “you know, the bride?”

“We’re all ears,” said Dad.

Tiffannee looked pained. “It’s Uncle Ernie,” she said, “I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“Did you forget to invite him?” said Dad, “because it’s OK, he’s quite a distant relative, he won’t mind.”

“No, I did invite him, that’s the problem,” said Tiffannee, awkwardly.

Even super-confident Hiram looked uncomfortable. “It was MY fault,” he said, “I wanted Tiff to have the biggest and best wedding ever so I invited everyone she knew… without asking her.”

“Including Uncle Ernie,” said Tiffannee.

“What’s the problem?” said Nat. She thought Tiffannee looked embarrassed. That’s odd , she thought, it’s usually me looking embarrassed.

“She wants a PERFECT wedding, not the biggest,” said Hiram, “and she doesn’t think uncle Ernie is, well, the perfect guest.”

“He’s a long way from perfect,” said Tiffannee, though flushing red and looking a bit uncomfortable for saying it.

Nat was so shocked she couldn’t speak. She thought everyone in her family was used to having embarrassing relatives.