Double Wedding

I was very wrong and as preparations got under way they both got increasingly enthusiastic about me as the new bride. Invites where hastily changed again, guests informed, the vicar notified and I was literally frog-marched to the hire shop to return my grooms suit.

I had a forlorn hope that the vicar would come to my rescue and refuse but to my surprise he was in fact a she and of the young modern breed. She saw no problem in the role switch as long as we loved each other. In fact, according to the gleeful Mrs Rother the Vicar seemed positively delighted with the idea. 'More couples should try it,' she said, 'men in skirts - that would bring them down to size, reduce their over inflated egos and give the relationship some hope of survival.'

Needless to say I didn't share her enthusiasm.

The inevitable day came when her mother invited me begrudgingly to her house for a fitting. Paula was at work and I got the day off. It was surreal being stripped by her mother, my future mother-in-law and being dressed as her bride to be daughter.

'Come on don't just sit there. Move!'

My legs were wobbly and defective. It took me three goes to get out the sofa, and Mrs Rother and her friend Joyce were laughing at me.

'Please Mrs Rother,' I pleaded. 'I'll be a laughing stock' but my cries went unnoticed as without the support of Paula, Mrs Rother showed her true feelings and didn't hold back.

'Don't be so pathetic many men would be overjoyed to be dressing as a bride.'

'But I'm not many men,' I cry

'Maybe not now but you will.' The two of them then grin like hyenas and I feel like a ten-year-old girl.

Joyce, an old school friend, could remember coming to Mrs Rother's wedding so seeing the dress again was a delight yet when Mrs Rother explained who was to be the bride she roared with laughter and Mrs Rother looked at me with a cocktail of anger and contempt.

'You, my lady,' she said, 'are going to the church as the beautiful feminine bride whether you like it or not or this weddings off.'