Nigel Smith - Nathalia Buttface and the Totally Embarrassing Bridesmaid Disaster

Copyright Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Dedication Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Read more from Nathalia Buttface About the Author Rave Reviews for Nathalia Buttface About the Publisher

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2016

HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd. HarperCollins Publishers , 1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF

The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Nathalia Buttface and the Totally Embarrassing Bridesmaid Disaster Text copyright © Nigel Smith, 2016 Illustrations © Sarah Horne, 2016

Nigel Smith and Sarah Horne assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

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Source ISBN: 9780008167097

Ebook Edition © 2016 ISBN: 9780008167103

Version: 2016-02-15

To Michèle, for pretending I’m not as embarrassing as Dad.

And thank you to Ruth, for the awesome idea, the amazing editing and the annoying nagging about finishing the flipping book.

NS

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication To Michèle, for pretending I’m not as embarrassing as Dad. And thank you to Ruth, for the awesome idea, the amazing editing and the annoying nagging about finishing the flipping book. NS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Read more from Nathalia Buttface

About the Author

Rave Reviews for Nathalia Buttface

About the Publisher

Contents Cover Title Page Copyright Dedication To Michèle, for pretending I’m not as embarrassing as Dad. And thank you to Ruth, for the awesome idea, the amazing editing and the annoying nagging about finishing the flipping book. NS Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five Chapter Twenty-Six Chapter Twenty-Seven Chapter Twenty-Eight Chapter Twenty-Nine Read more from Nathalia Buttface About the Author Rave Reviews for Nathalia Buttface About the Publisher

“Dad, I’m not coming out of the changing rooms and I’m not even joking and this wedding is utter pants and I hardly even know my lame cousin and bridesmaids are all rank and I LOOK TOTALLY STUPID and anyway I’m not doing it,” said Nat.

Ever so loudly.

Dad looked at the sour-faced lady who ran DREAM BRIDES LTD – a hot and cramped little dress shop above a newsagents on the high street. He gave her what he hoped was a charming smile. She wasn’t charmed one little bit. Her face, which was stony to begin with, hardened to granite.

“She doesn’t have to shout,” said the lady, who was called Dolly Crumble and who was almost lost among the sickly pink and curdled cream and violently violet fluffy, frilly frocks that filled her little boutique.

“That’s not shouting,” said Dad, whose voice was muffled by some kind of purple velvet thing that was apparently a really important bit of a bridesmaid outfit and seemed to be attacking him. “When she was a baby and was hungry or had wet herself, THEN she shouted. You should have heard it.”

“Shuddup, Dad,” shouted Nat from the changing room. Billowing pink material surrounded her. It looked like she was being consumed by a possessed blancmange.

Dad didn’t shuddup.

“When baby Nathalia started yelling in the car, people thought a fire engine was going past. It was great – everyone else on the road got out of the way. I lost count of how many cars drove into lamp posts.”

“Nobody cares, Dad,” shouted Nat.

“Are you ready to come out yet?” asked Dolly Crumble. “Only you’ve been in there twenty minutes and this is the SIXTH Perfect Fairy Princess dress you have tried on.”

“That’s because they’re all horrible,” wailed Nat. “They all look like vomit.”

“Such language,” said the dressmaker, glaring at Dad as if he was to blame. “I hope she’s going to be a better behaved young lady on the big day.” She sniffed in a superior way and hoisted up her enormous bosom.

“A wedding is the most precious day in any woman’s life. It is, you might say, the best moment of her entire life.”

“Rubbish,” said Nat. “There’s tons of things better than a soppy wedding. There’s getting to number one in the charts or winning Celebrity All-Star Cook-Off or climbing Mount Everest or getting an Oscar or a Nobel Prize or an Olympic medal or going into space or—”

“Yes, well, not many girls will do those things,” interrupted Dolly Crumble, “but all girls can get married.”

“If everyone can do it, that doesn’t make it very special then, does it?” argued Nat. There was a stony silence, like a big, gaping dark hole. Dad jumped into it. With both feet.

“Tell us about YOUR wedding day,” he said. “If I’ve learned one thing in the last few weeks it’s how much women like to talk about weddings. They really REALLY like to talk about weddings.”

Nat thought she heard a rather strained tone in Dad’s voice but as she was still being swallowed by the evil dress, she couldn’t be sure.

The silence got EVEN worse.

“I have not had the pleasure of the bridal day,” hissed the dressmaker. “Well, I had the pleasure of the DAY – the lovely church, the beautiful flowers, the glorious dress, the expectant relatives. What I did NOT have was the pleasure of Derek Sponge, my intended, turning up. No, he decided NOT to marry me, but to run off to Torquay to open a Bed and Breakfast with Sally Bucket, my next door neighbour.”