Double Wedding

Alone I studied it closer. The dress was snow white and the ornate bodice had little pearls or beads and sequins sewn all over it. It had shoestring straps but looked as if it could be worn off the shoulder and had zips at the back. It was amazing and must have cost a small fortune. In the corner of her room hung a hopped underskirt, train and an underskirt consisting of at least seven layers of tulle. I imagined how they would really puff the dress right out for a true fairytale Cinderella style gown and I chuckled, it was so unlike Paula. I fingered the pretty dress fondly but knew with some disappointment that it would be unlikely to be worn again. It really wasn't Paula's style. I'd never seen her in anything particularly feminine. I day dreamed for a moment and was rudely awoken by the bedroom door flying open.

Her mother still angry with me walked in and scowled, Paula was by her side equally cross.

'We have to arrange a fitting. My friend Joyce will help.' Mrs Rother cried her voice at fever pitch.

'I'm not wearing your stupid dress,' Paula says sharply. 'I've told you before.'

I wince, as Mrs Rother looks fit to explode so I try to help. 'It's lovely,' I say merrily. 'Paula you'll look very pretty.'

Paula glared at me angrily.

'If you love her bloody dress so much, you wear it,' Paula screamed.

That was it. Those few words set her mother thinking and in a desperate bid to stop the wedding she suggested to Paula that we swapped roles. Most normal brides would perish the fault but not Paula she loved the idea. I'm not sure if it was a way of irritating her mother but I couldn't believe my ears.

'You're kidding me,' I gasp. But she wasn't.

'Nonsense, it's a great idea. The dress will suit you so well. The bodice will accentuate your shapely figure and the delicate sleeves will make you look so young and slender,' Mrs Rother smirks and I shuffle awkwardly. 'I can see you now,' she continues mockingly, 'with your long glossy hair tied back, your face beautifully made-up, a colourful floral bouquet in your tiny manicured hands, with your idyllic bridesmaids holding your pretty train as you step majestically down the isle in heels.