Bridesmaids' Club

by Cathy Hopkins

  ‘Thank you,’ I said to Nessa.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ she replied. ‘It’s no ordinary phone. It’s a Zodiac phone.’ She gently ushered me to the wings of the stage and soon after, another prize-winner was announced and another person was making their way to the stage. Nessa indicated the phone. ‘You’re a very, very lucky girl. To be chosen to be a Zodiac Girl is a rare honour. For one month the stars will come to your aid and I, Nessa, the embodiment of Venus, will be your guardian. I will be there for you whenever you need. You can call on me or one of the other planets from your Zodiac phone. We are here for you for your special month and wish for you that it be magical and memorable.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I whispered although I had no idea what she had said. I was too busy gazing at her. I was completely star-struck. I had never met a celebrity before and my mind seemed to have gone blank.

  The rest of the show felt like a blur. Nessa disappeared with Uri, people started packing up their stalls, and all too soon it was time to go home. Demi and Maryam were well impressed with my phone and pendant and both said how jealous they were that they hadn’t been picked as Zodiac Girls.

  ‘I’m going back to find that man,’ said Maryam and she set off for Aisle H. Demi and I followed and we just caught Uri as he was about to leave on a unicycle.

  ‘Hey, can we be Zodiac Girls too?’ Maryam asked.

  He shook his head. ‘One month, one girl,’ he said. Then he looked over at me and handed me a piece of paper. ‘Here’s your horoscope. Every month somewhere on the planet, according to the line-up of the stars, one girl, and one girl only, is chosen to be Zodiac Girl. Mercury will be retrograde for your first week as Zodiac Girl. Mercury is the planet of communication. Hmm. With the line-up of stars in your chart, it could be tricky for the first seven days. Make sure you don’t lose your phone. That’s the sort of thing that happens when Mercury is going backwards. You have only been chosen for a month. But we’ll be in touch if we can. In the meantime, Chloe, expect the unexpected. Toodles!’ And with that, he rode off on his strange bike.

  Chapter Three

  Career Week

  ‘Chloe, what can I put you down for?’ asked Mr Mooney, our form teacher, on Monday morning.

  ‘Um, art . . . um . . . English . . . um . . . when do we have to finally decide?’

  Mr Mooney sighed. ‘I was hoping today. Last week’s homework, remember? Think about what you might like to do when you leave school, talk it over with your parents, come in ready with subject choices.’

  I nodded. ‘Sorry. Um . . . I thought I might do languages and then I changed my mind and thought, no, I like art and . . . oh, I can’t decide! But it’s not my fault – I’m a Libran. My star sign can never decide.’

  ‘You’re not the only one who knows about astrology, Chloe,’ said Mr Mooney. ‘I am a Taurus and we like to sit about watching television and eating good food, but do I give in to it? No. I come in to work and teach people like you. Do you see what I am saying? Sometimes you have to overcome some parts of your nature, so Libran or not, decide!’

  So much for sympathy, I thought. All our teachers had been on about lately was what we wanted to do when we left school. Last week had been a special ‘career week’ with visiting speakers and talks in the lunch breaks. But get a job? What job? Go to college? To do what? Who knew? I certainly didn’t and I was getting bored of everyone being so into it including Demi and Maryam, who were smug as bugs in rugs because they were well sorted and had their subjects choices picked, easy-peasy. I’d tried to keep an open mind and consider all the options but even after the endless lectures from visiting guests, I still wasn’t any closer to knowing what to do. I’d gone from wanting to be a fashion designer with Demi to being a TV presenter, with lots of other options in between. Luckily Mr Mooney moved on from me.

  ‘So let’s hear some of your choices so far,’ he said and he looked hopefully around the class.

  Janice Aitkin put up her hand. ‘An actress.’

  Sophie Smith put up hers. ‘Hairdresser, sir.’

  Barbara Reilley called out. ‘A teacher, sir.’ She got a nod of approval for that but then she’s always been teacher’s pet.

  Tracy Jones called out, ‘Interior designer.’

  Ellie Andrews, ‘A holiday rep.’

  ‘I’m not going to work at all,’ said Susie Peterson. ‘I’m going to marry dosh.’

  Mr Mooney rolled his eyes. ‘Good luck to you,’ he said.

  I was thinking, How can they know? How can they be so sure? Even ‘married to rich husband’ is more than I can decide.

  ‘And what about you?’ Mr Mooney asked Zoe Cain.

  ‘Reality show celebrity,’ she replied.

  Mr Mooney sighed. ‘Reality show celebrity isn’t a career choice, Zoe.’

  ‘Yes it is,’ Zoe said. ‘All you have to do is eat bugs or slugs in a remote jungle some place or get locked up in a house for a few weeks or have a big boob job and you could be set for life.’

  Mr Mooney sighed again but the class laughed.

  ‘Think again, Zoe,’ said Mr Mooney. ‘And you too, Susie Peterson.’

  I was glad that I wasn’t the only one who was being asked to rethink their plan. It was a difficult decision, a big choice, big pressure – what to do with the rest of our lives. Annoyingly, like the being a bridesmaid thing, everyone else seemed to be one step ahead of me. I’ve only ever wanted to be a bridesmaid and that’s not exactly a serious career choice. When Mum walked into one of the meetings of the Bridesmaids’ Club one month, she suggested that we start a band called the Bridesmaids. Sadly, even that wasn’t an option because I’m tone deaf, Demi has the rhythm of a dead parrot, and although Maryam plays a musical instrument it’s the ukulele, which even I know isn’t rock and roll. While Mr Mooney moved on, I reached down to my rucksack and pulled out my Zodiac phone. With all the fun of the fair, I hadn’t had a chance to look at it properly. I pressed the top to see if it switched on and seconds later, it bleeped that there was a message. And another. Mr Mooney swung round.

  ‘Who’s brought their phone into class?’

  My desk is at the back and everyone turned round to look at me. Mr Mooney marched down the aisle and put his hand out. ‘You know the rules, Bradbury. Hand me the phone.’ I passed it over to him and he looked at it quizzically for a moment then went to the front of the class and put it in the drawer of his desk. ‘You can have it back on Friday after school.’

  Uri’s words, ‘Don’t lose your phone,’ echoed in my mind. Oops! So much for taking heed of his warning. I wasn’t to know Mr Mooney would be on the warpath, but then Uri also said to expect the unexpected. Is this what he meant? Heck! I can’t even contact him or Nessa to see what it’s about. I put my forehead down on my desk and felt depressed for a few moments and then I remembered that I still had Marcie’s wedding to organise. You can’t take that away from me, Mr Mooney! OK, so I don’t know what I want to be or do but at least I have a wedding to look forward to!

  Chapter Four

  Surprise!

  On the Sunday afternoon that Marcie was due to visit, I had everything in my bedroom ready for her. I’d laid out fabric samples for dresses on the bed along with a variety of designs by Nessa. I put the latest Wedding magazines in a pile on my desk. I propped up photos of various bouquets by the wall, one with roses, one with freesias and one with white hyacinths, and I had a ton of others to show her if she didn’t go for what I’d put out on display.

  My plan was that after the obligatory catch-up with Mum, I would make Marcie and me a hot chocolate and then we could escape up to my room and get on with the business in hand. As I busied myself putting out everything I’d collected from the wedding show for her to look at, I felt a rush of excitement. Life is just so brilliant, I thought, as I fished out a pile of leaflets about limos and horse-drawn carriages.

  This year’s wedding show had been the best so far, not only because of the new stalls and getting the prize of being this month’s Zod
iac Girl there, but also because of meeting Nessa. I felt so happy as I remembered being the centre of attention for those few minutes up on stage. Nessa had said something about being my guardian and planet people being here to help me and I realized later that must mean that she and her colleagues would help me plan the perfect wedding. I guessed that being picked as a Zodiac Girl meant that I got the special promotions that were running for a month – I remembered Uri emphasizing something about the offer being for four weeks only. The Zodiac phone was clearly part of the Celestial Weddings marketing too because when I had got it back from Mr Mooney after school on Friday, I had tried putting in numbers of my friends and family but it didn’t work. However, there were ten names and numbers on the address page already, all part of Celestial Weddings – some of them I recognized from the fair like Joe Jupiter, Uri and, of course, Nessa.

  Very clever, to give out a phone with the names and numbers of all the aspects of the business. Much more imaginative than just using business cards, I thought as I glanced over the list again.

  1) Nessa: Venus

  2) Mr O: Sun

  3) Mario: Mars

  4) Hermie: Mercury

  5) Joe: Jupiter

  6) Captain John: Neptune

  7) Dr Cronus: Saturn

  8) Uri: Uranus

  9) Selene: Moon.

  10) PJ: Pluto.

  Yes, they are all definitely part of Celestial Weddings, I decided, as they all had a planet after their name. If the standard of the rest of them was anything like as high as Nessa’s designs and Joe Jupiter’s fab food, we could hire the lot of them.

  The Zodiac phone didn’t work for phoning out normally. I tried dialling Demi’s number but all I got was a voice telling me, ‘Number not listed in address book.’ I didn’t mind that much because I already had a mobile and that worked fine although it wasn’t as pretty. I moved from my desk the piles of potential courses and jobs brochures that the woman doing careers advice had left with me after the last session on Wednesday and replaced them with lovely wedding mags. I still wasn’t any clearer about what I wanted to do despite the growing pressure to think about subject choices but I wasn’t going to worry about that today.

  I heard the doorbell go and raced down, to find Marcie at the front door. She looked great, with a new haircut in soft layers around her face. I could just imagine it tied up with freesias wound into it, or maybe jasmine – the small star-shaped flowers would really stand out against her chestnut-coloured hair. I’d let her decide.

  ‘Congratulations!’ I said, and went and gave her a hug. She grinned back, put her arms around me and we did a skip around whilst still hugging.

  Mum came out from the back room. An older version of Marcie with the same dark hair and amber eyes. She joined in the hug. ‘Chloe’s been researching your wedding while you’ve been away,’ she said when we pulled back. ‘I trust that you are still getting married? Haven’t changed your mind on the plane back?’ Always the same, I thought. All my family are doubtful that anything can ever work out. I was about to say something but bit it back. I didn’t want to ruin Marcie’s good news moment by arguing with Mum. ‘No,’ said Marcie. ‘We’ve even fixed a date. June 15th, we thought.’

  I punched the air. ‘Yay. You’ll be a summer bride. Fab. I’ve got loads of stuff to show you, Marce.’

  Marcie smiled, sort of – it was a cross between a smile and a wince. Oh poor thing, I thought, she’s worried already. Everyone knows how stressful it is being a bride but she has me. I will make it easy-peasy.

  ‘Lunch in five,’ Mum said. ‘Table’s set. Marcie, come and chat while I set the table. How’s Geoff? I thought you might have brought him along.’

  Marcie looked uncomfortable and shifted about from foot to foot. ‘Ah yes. Geoff. I have something to tell you about him.’

  We followed Mum into the kitchen and Marcie sat at the table while Mum and I found cutlery.

  ‘OK, I’m just going to come out and say it,’ Marcie blurted. ‘Um, Geoff. Yes. We broke up.’

  ‘You what?’ I was horrified. ‘When?’

  ‘A few weeks ago. Just before we were meant to go to Paris.’

  ‘Before Paris?’ I said. ‘But you spoke to me. I don’t understand. So the wedding’s off?’

  ‘Yes. No. I mean yes, it’s off with Geoff. I broke up with him before I went away.’

  Mum looked as puzzled as I was. ‘So what about the engagement?’ she asked. ‘What do you mean you broke up before you went away, Marcie love? You mean after, surely.’ Mum glanced at me. ‘She’s clearly upset and got all her dates mixed up.’

  Marcie took a deep breath. ‘No, I haven’t. I broke up with Geoff before I went away. Listen, he just wasn’t right, that is, he was so right, he looked great, he was great but . . . but . . . the chemistry wasn’t there. I was going to tell you but . . . I knew that you all liked him and I didn’t want you talking me out of it.’

  ‘But what about Paris? The proposal?’ I asked. ‘You said June 15th for the wedding date when you came in.’

  Marcie nodded. ‘Yes. It is. And I did get engaged. That part is right.’

  ‘But you just said you broke up with Geoff,’ I said. ‘I’m confused.’

  ‘I did break up with Geoff. And I did get engaged. To Sam. I got engaged to Sam.’

  ‘Sam!’ Mum and I chorused and we both sat down with a thud.

  Marcie nodded. ‘He got in touch a couple of nights before I went to Paris and begged me not to go. He said his life had been a misery without me, and just hearing his voice made me realize how much I’d missed him. I’d been going out with Geoff on the rebound and it wasn’t fair to him, to keep stringing him along when I knew the magic ingredient wasn’t there and all along I was still in love with Sam. I didn’t think Sam would ever settle down so there was no point, but he’s changed, and says he’s realized that he can’t live without me. When he came over, I realized in a second that all the old feelings were still there and in fact had never really gone away.’

  ‘Sam?’ I repeated. I couldn’t take it in. Mum didn’t seem too upset, she’d always liked Sam, and she got up and finished setting the table and served lunch while she pressed Marcie for more details. I sat between them doing my goldfish impersonation. I was in shock as I listened while she told the whole story. I couldn’t get my head around it. Sam? Sam?

  It turned out that Marcie never went to Paris. Instead Sam took her to a B. & B. in Bognor Regis. He proposed over breakfast. Hid the ring in a muffin. I couldn’t help feeling disappointed. It was supposed to have been Paris, one of the most romantic cities in the world. There were so many fabulous locations that Sam could have chosen – a city in Spain or Italy, a beach in Morocco or even Cornwall, a balcony with a view, a sunset, a lovely moment to remember – not a breakfast table laid with salt, pepper, maybe a tomato sauce bottle and a muffin in blooming Bognor Regis. Sam? Sam? Pff! He had never struck me as someone who had much romance in his soul. Marcie was lucky she hadn’t got the ring attached to a pair of sneakers.

  ‘You OK, Chloe?’ asked Marcie.

  ‘Nff, yes, no. Just a bit of a shock, that’s all. I . . . thought we were going to be welcoming Geoff into the family and now, er . . . Are you absolutely sure, Marcie? I mean, you broke up with Sam.’

  ‘I have never been so sure about anything in my life. I love him. I always have. I broke up with him because he wouldn’t commit to a wedding – you remember how he feels about them – but he told me that the months without me had been a complete misery and he’d do anything to have me back, even get married. I know he means it this time. I know he’s The One.’

  I knew I mustn’t put a damper on her happiness but my heart was sinking. I mustn’t let it show, I thought. ‘Um. Tell me about the proposal again,’ I said.

  She blushed slightly while she repeated the story, then she showed us her ring. Diamond. Classic. Not too flashy. Bit ordinary, I thought. A more modern design would have looked better. But then Sam was a bloke. A bloke
y bloke. He couldn’t be relied on to be up on the latest engagement jewellery.

  ‘Are you quite quite quite sure?’ I asked again.

  ‘Chloe! Anyone would think that you’re not happy for me. Don’t you like Sam?’ Marcie retorted.

  ‘Um, yes, course,’ I said. ‘He’s . . . very handsome.’ He was. No denying that.

  ‘He always thought you didn’t like him,’ said Marcie. ‘Please say you do, Chloe. For me. I know he made fun of the Bridesmaids’ Club but he’s a real sweetie deep down. He wants you to like him and I so want you to get on.’

  I didn’t want to ruin her day. I will do my best, I thought, but looking at Marcie’s finger and the ordinary ring made me more resolute than ever to get the rest of the wedding right. ‘If you like him, then I like him,’ I said in the most convincing way that I could muster up. I didn’t say that I liked Geoff more.

  After we’d cleared up the dishes, I finally managed to steal Marcie away.

  ‘Wow! You’ve been busy,’ she said as she surveyed my room.

  I pushed aside a pile of magazines to make space for her on my bed. ‘I have. I’ve already done a lot of sifting through and eliminated a lot of the dross so we only have the best ideas to look at. I met the most amazing new people at the fair. I think we should hire all of them.’

  Again a worried expression crossed Marcie’s face. Not so much a smile as a wince. I took her hand. ‘Hey, it’s going to be all right. If you think that Sam is the right man for you then I will do my best to get on better with him. And we’re going to make you the most perfect wedding, don’t you worry.’ I meant it too – I’d compromise on the groom as long as I got my chance to be a bridesmaid.

  ‘Thanks, Chloe, and of course I will look at what you’ve picked out. It’s just . . . well . . . Sam and I talked about it when we were away . . .’