Nathalia Buttface and the Totally Embarrassing Bridesmaid Disaster. Nigel Smith
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one of Diana De Milano’s,” she said proudly.
“Have you borrowed it off her?” said Nat.
“She’s a very famous designer,” said Tiffannee, laughing. “She’s doing my fairytale wedding gown too, don’t you remember?”
Nat didn’t remember, because she didn’t care.
While Tiffannee went off to talk to Mum, Nat turned angrily to Dad. “I’m telling her I’m not doing it and you can’t stop me. I’m not gonna be in a bazillion family photos dressed like a ridiculous fairy princess with MASSIVE butterfly wings and a spangly tiara. I look like something even hobbits would make fun of.
Suddenly Mum dashed back in. “I just need my purse then we’re off,” she said. Nat stood up.
“This bridesmaid thing—” began Nat, summoning up her courage to say she wasn’t going to do it, no way no how, no ifs or buts.
“Oh yes, I forgot to tell you, good news – Tiffannee’s arranged for all her bridesmaids to go to a spa tomorrow!” said Mum.
“Spa?” said Nat.
“Yes,” said Tiffannee, coming back in, “that really a-maze-balls one that was in the paper. I want you all to get pampered and massaged and made-up and everything. The works, treat yourselves. It’s my little thank you to my fairy princesses.”
Nat paused.
“I’m so jealous,” said Mum. “It’s supposed to be a wonderful spa.”
Nat paused a bit more.
“Now, what were you saying about the bridesmaids?” said Dad.
“Nothing important,” said Nat.
“I think it was,” said Dad, helpfully.
“Shuddup, Dad,” said Nat firmly, “it definitely wasn’t important.”
I’ll get out of being a bridesmaid tomorrow, thought Evil Nat, who was always lurking somewhere in a grubby corner of Nathalia’s brain. AFTER the a-maze-balls spa…
The next day was a lovely spring day, sunny and warm. Nat hopped cheerily on to the minibus that was to take her and Tiffannee’s five other bridesmaids to the FABULOUS YOU! spa.
Nice one, Nat, she thought to herself. She walked smugly down to the end of the bus where the other five bridesmaids were waiting.
Like Tiffannee, the other bridesmaids were about ten years older than Nat. It was exciting to get to hang out with grown-ups. Even better, as Nat walked towards them, she could hear the other girls already hating on someone. Nat was looking forward to hearing all the wedding gossip while hopefully getting sparkly nail varnish on her toes.
“…little miss perfect, the pet fairy,” said the Chief Bridesmaid, who was called Daisy Wetwipe. She had a butterfly tattoo on her shoulder and a sharp nose that pointed upwards.
Oooh, thought Nat, girls are so mean! I wonder who they’ve got it in for. At least for once it can’t be me as they don’t even know me. This is waaay better than school.
“I should have been Third Assistant Bridesmaid,” said a girl with scraped back blonde hair called Tilly Saddle. Her hair was so tightly yanked back it pulled her eyelids up into a look of permanent shock.
“Yes, you should. Or me, at any rate. And now she’s taken that place, which should have been either me or you,” sniffed Erin Granule, who had a little moustache.
“She’s trying to climb the bridesmaid ladder,” said Annie Chicken, who exhibited a nose stud which looked like a fat spot.
“You’re in danger now of course, ’cos you’re Second Assistant Bridesmaid,” said Daisy to a girl called Bella Drench, who had black frizzy hair piled up like a loo brush, and had shaved her eyebrows and drawn them back on.
“Yes, she’ll be after your place next.”
“Not if we get her first,” whispered Bella, her eyes flicking darkly in Nat’s direction as she sat down next to them.
“Hi, I’m Nat, who we hating on?” said Nat, a little nervously.
Five pairs of bridesmaid eyes glinted angrily at her.
That would be me then, thought Nat, sliding down into her seat, it IS just like school, after all.
After a tense and embarrassing journey, with Nat catching regular unpleasant whispers behind her, the minibus at last pulled into a wide gravel drive that cut through beautiful green lawns.
They parked alongside a large number of big shiny cars in front of a huge old house. The house reminded Nat of a Victorian school. Or perhaps a Victorian prison, she suddenly thought, as she saw a bunch of people in grey tracksuits being marched up a hill and made to do press-ups.
That doesn’t look very relaxing, thought Nat. Then she noticed a big sign.
The full name of the spa was:
FABULOUS YOU! SPA, WELLNESS AND FITNESS… FOREVER.
Underneath, someone had painted the words:
OR ELSE.
Which alarmed Nat a little.
The bridesmaids were greeted at the front door by a trim woman in a blue tunic with thin lips and a clipboard. She had one of those tight smiles that people who don’t enjoy smiling have.
Her plastic name badge read:
Gertie Catflap.
“Welcome to your super fun-packed luxury spa day,” said Ms Catflap, handing each of the girls a form.
“Sign this, it means we’re not responsible if anything happens to you during a treatment.”
As they signed, she said: “The changing rooms are on the left. Please get into your swimming costumes. Quick as you like now, you don’t want to miss a fun-packed minute. Go, hurry.”
Her smile got tired about halfway through, so by the time she said ‘fun-packed’ it looked like she was sending them all down for a ten stretch in the clink. Nat didn’t want to think about what Ms Catflap would do to anyone who DIDN’T have a super fun-packed time.
None of the other bridesmaids spoke to Nat in the changing rooms.
Be like that, Nat thought. I’ll just have a day of pampering on my own. See if I care.
She put on her bathing cossie and wrapped a fluffy spa robe around herself. She wished Penny Posnitch was here to enjoy it with her. She smiled and thought how much fun she’d have telling her friend all about her super fun-packed luxury spa day at school tomorrow.
Obviously she wouldn’t bother telling her friend Darius about it, because his idea of a super fun-packed day would probably involve tactical nuclear weaponry and a big red button.
The first treatment was in a large, brick-lined room, built around a massive mud bath. Gentle music was piped in from somewhere. The lighting was soft. The mud, however, smelled like farts.
Actually Darius WOULD like this, thought Nat.
The girls clambered into the big tub filled with the warm, gloopy mud. Close up, the mud smelt of perfume that didn’t QUITE mask the smell of rotten eggs.
Nat sank into the muck with a big, ploppy, trumpety noise.
“Hey,