Yours Truly (47 page)

No reason. Xx

I'm getting married! In a few short hours I will be Mrs Natalie Chatterley.

It's impossible not to be excited. Mum's house is buzzing. Dionne's turned on some music and is already handing out champagne while Auntie Jan practises her scales for the song she is going to perform in the church (we decided on
Up Where We Belong
), and in a few minutes the hairdresser will be here to help make me look beautiful and groomed.

Everything is going to plan. I'm back where I belong, I'm marrying the most handsome man in the world, and my brain is fixed. It's all great. Everything is great.

I'm having my face moisturised by the make-up lady whe
n M
um shouts downstairs for someone to answer the door.

“
The hairdresser is here! Let her in!
”

No one else seems bothered about the continuously ringing doorbell so I apologise to the make-up lady and plod to the door myself.

Oh balls. I've seen
this
hairdresser before.

It's Barbara. From fricking Hair Hackers.

Oh no she didn't.

“
Calm down!
”
M
um scolds as I have a mini panic attack in the living room. In the grand scheme of things that have gone on in my life recently, bad hair isn't really one to worry about, but the hideous haircut Barbara gave me does not bode at all well for what kind of wedding up do she'll adorn me with.

“
Barbara was the only person available at such short notice,
”
Mum shrugs .

No wonder. She's shit.

“
But, But!
”
I start, but mum shushes me and plonks me down in the chair. Dionne hurries over with a glass of champagne. I neck it in one.

“
Okay. A simple chignon,
”
Dionne says slowly to Barbara.
“
That's what you want, isn't it, Natty?
”

“
Yes. Just simple,
”
I echo, throwing Dionne a grateful look.

“
Not what I'd go for but...
it's Natalie's day.
”

Barbara puts her hands on her ample hips.
“
I don't know why you're fussing. She runs her fingers through my locks.
“
This here is a top class haircut.
”
She huffs.
“
A bloody chignon. Easy peasy, flower.
”

Once Mum and Dionne have established that Barbara will indeed be able to put my hair into a simple chignon, they leave again to pretty themselves up.

“
It's grown out a little bit, hasn't it. I can cut it again now for you if you like?
”

“
No!
”

“
Why not? You loved your hair the last time I did it!
”

It's my first instinct to lie, to be polite to this woman and agree that yes, I did love my hair the last time she cut it. But something happens. I
want
to tell her the truth.

“
I didn't love it. I think you rushed it, actually. The colours were horrible, and you charged me too much. I should have told you at the time but I was too afraid of hurting your feelings.
”

Barbara goes quiet for a moment.

Shit. I’ve upset her.

She strolls over to where her kit bag is on the dining room table and digs inside.

What is
she
doing? She's probably getting out her largest pair of scissors to stab me with. Or worse, her electric razor so that she can shave my head and I'll have to be a bald bride.

But she does none of those things. She pulls out a big wad of twenties and peels off five notes.

“
Love, my feelings are not easily hurt. I'm sorry you didn't like the job I did. You should have told me. Here's your money back.
”

And then she hands me a hundred quid.

What? Just like that?

I look at her. She doesn't appear to be upset. Or have hurt feelings. In fact she looks like this is something that has happened to her before which, let’s face it, probably has.

“
Oh,
”
I say like an idiot.
“
Well, thanks. I'm glad that's sorted.
”

“
Can I do your bloody chignon now?
”

“
Yes. Thanks, Barbara!
”

The chignon turns out to be exactly what I wanted. Twisted elegantly at the nape of my neck and with a few beaded clips dotted here and there. It's a shame I'll have to ruin the effect with the dress of horrors, but that's what you get when your wedding is called back on at the last minute, I suppose.

When I've done up my bra, I slip on my
dressing gown and call out to M
um, who’s been waiting outside the bedroom door with my dress, that I'm ready to get changed.

She comes in, her face flushed with pleasure, and unzips the huge garment bag she's holding.

I get the shock of my life when what she pulls out isn't the dress of horrors, but an elegant, corseted dress with a soft flippy skirt and lace sleeves.

“
What? How?
”
I gasp, unable to take my eyes off one of the most beautiful dresses I've ever seen.

“
It's the same dress!
”
M
um bursts out excitedly, like she's been waiting to show me for ages.
“
I adjusted it.
”

“
Adjusted? Are you mental! This is a complete overhaul!
”

I can't believe it! The diamante has been unstitched and replaced with tiny glass beads, the top is still corseted but a brand new sweetheart neckline has been added. The reams of netting underskirt have been totally removed!

Mum blushes and brushes her fringe out of her eyes.
“
Well, I had a little think and I realised that maybe we were a bit pushy with the dress. You were right. It really wasn't you. Dionne maybe. But definitely not you. I've been working on it for a few weeks. You know. Just in case...
”

I do a little jump up and down. I can't believe I'm going to get to wear this dress.

“
Thank you,
M
um,
”
I say, leaning in to give her a squeeze.

“
You're welcome, darling,
”
she says, squeezing back just as tightly
.

Bull is driving us to the church in his flashy yellow car with the blacked out windows. Now, the only thing I know about Bull is that he's a bit of a gangster with fingers in many dodgy pies and contacts with some of the most dangerous mastermind criminals in the country. So I must admit I'm surprised to find that his appearance is less Jason Statham and more Pee Wee Herman.

Bull is a geek. No two ways about it. He's dressed in a black tuxedo with a yellow cummerbund and a matching bow tie. Dionne flings herself at him and smothers him in kisses. He blushes, but kisses her back all the same, commenting how wonderful she looks in her black tutu. They are a very cute couple.

“
Hello, Natalie,
”
Bull says in a softly spoken cockney twang.
“
You look beautiful. It's nice to meet you. Your sister says nuffink but great things about ya.
”

“
She does?
”
I chuckle as Dionne pokes her tongue out at me.
“
It's good to finally meet you too.
”

“
What are we standing here like plebs for?
”
Mum interrupts, bustling out of the front door behind us. She looks lovely and bright and decidedly
un-
frail in a deep purple shift dress, matching jacket and hat. I feel a glimmer of pride.

“
Come on then, everyone. Let's get this show on the road!
”

It all seems to have happened so quickly. I can't quite believe that this is it. I'm getting married!

We stop outside the church for a few moments while Irene from the shop's husband, Bob,
takes some photographs of me, M
um and Dionne.

I take a deep breath, re-apply some lip gloss and then it's time to go.

I get to
the entrance of the church and M
um hurries in before me. I hear her saying hello to all the guests.

Oh God. This is it.

Dionne is next to me, looking exactly like the Black Swan from Swan Lake. She straightens my dress and pats down my hair.

“
You're gorgeous,
”
she says.

“
Thanks. Have you got a tissue? I'm sweating.
”

Dionne pulls a hanky from out of her cleavage and hands it over. I dab at my forehead.

We stand there and wait for the music to start playing, my cue to walk down the aisle to Olly.

“
I can't wait until I get to do this with Bull!
”
Dionne beams, her eyes sparkling at the very thought.

“
He's lovely!
”
I say approvingly.
“
Not at all what I expected. You go very well together.
”

“
I know,
”
Dionne says making heart eyes.
“
We're sooooo in love.
”

All at once I stiffen.

My stomach drops and my ears ring.

“
W-
What did you just say?
”
I ask, feeling the colour drain from my face.

“
Um. We're soooo in love?
”

Oh God.

“
Ask me if I'm in love with Olly?
”
I say, my heart speeding up.

“
What? Why?
”

“
Because no one asked me that when I was under the
truth-tell
ing spell. They all asked me if I loved Olly. And of course I do. Of course I
love
him. But no one asked me if I'm IN love with him.
”

“
Calm down,
”
Dionne scolds.
“
This is classic cold feet. Besides it doesn't matter if I ask you, you're not hypnotised anymore. You don't need me to ask you the question to know the truth.
”

She's right. But...

“
Just do this for
me, Dionne. Ask me! Please!
”

She sighs and rolls her eyes.

“
Are you in love with Olly?
”

The answer comes back at once. Not forced through my mouth because of a spell cast upon me by some crazy old man with weird powers. But in my heart. And I'm sure. I've never been more sure.

“
No. No I'm not in love with him.
”

Dionne gasps. I gasp.

And then the organ strikes up with the wedding march.

Massive balls.

What is someone supposed to do in a situation like this? I don't know how it works. They don't tell you about this in the wedding blogs and magazines.

I can't marry Olly. I can't marry somebody I'm not in love with.

Dionne does a squeak and pushes me further towards the church entrance.

“
You're being silly. You don't know what you're talking about.
”

She pushes me again. I stumble forward and then I'm inside the room. Crammed full of guests of whom I only know about half.

Shit. I have no choice. I can't back out now. Not after I've messed everyone around. They've all put in so much effort. I feel like I'm in a bad dream. The worst dream.

I start to walk.

There's Auntie Jan, looking resplendent in her brand new burgundy trouser suit, she's supposed to be singing later. And Irene from the shop who worked through the night to do pie and peas and some egg mayo sandwiches and spring rolls for a buffet.

I carry on walking.

There's Barbara the hairdresser who decided to support me at my wedding even though we don't know each other and I called her a bad hairdresser.