Rent a Bridesmaid Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Tilly’s Wonderful Wedding Facts

  Make Your Own Wedding Favours

  Miss Hope’s Quiz

  Visit Jacqueline’s Fantastic Website

  About the Author

  Also by Jacqueline Wilson

  Copyright

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  ‘This story starts with a dress . . .’

  Tilly’s got a whole wardrobe full of bridesmaid’s dresses – a pale pink one, a blue one, even a red one with a soft white trim. The only problem is, they’re all in her imagination. In real life, it’s Tilly’s best friend Matty who has the beautiful pink dress to wear at the perfect white wedding. Tilly can’t help being a teeny tiny bit jealous – more than anything in the world, she would love to be a bridesmaid at her own mum and dad’s wedding. But that isn’t going to happen. In fact, Tilly’s worried she’s never going to get to be a bridesmaid. So, she decides to take matters into her own hands – and offers her bridesmaid’s services for hire . . .

  A wonderfully warm and moving story about the power of friendship, from the mega-bestselling author of The Worst Thing About My Sister. Full of beautiful illustrations by much-loved illustrator Nick Sharratt.

  For games, competitions and more, explore www.jacquelinewilson.co.uk

  To Sian Tolfree

  with love

  Chapter One

  THIS STORY STARTS with a dress. Not any old dress. Not a checked school dress or a pinafore dress or a party dress or a princess dress. This is a bridesmaid’s dress. The most beautiful bridesmaid’s dress in the world.

  It’s pink. It’s not a sickly bright stick-of-rock pink. It’s a very soft and subtle pink. I don’t think I’ve ever had raspberry ice cream but it’s that colour: vanilla ice cream mixed with just a few red raspberries, all swirled together to make this beautiful shade of pink. It’s made of silk, so smooth you want to keep stroking it. It has puff sleeves and a collar, both edged with a tiny piece of lace, a tight waist, and a very flared skirt with three ruffles. It has its own petticoat too, a slightly darker pink, and the hem is trimmed with the same lace as the dress.

  It’s not my dress. It’s my best friend Matty’s bridesmaid’s dress. We’re both called Matilda, only no one ever calls us that, apart from Miss Hope at school, particularly when she’s cross with one or other of us. It’s usually Matty. She’s very naughty and very cheeky but everyone likes her a lot, even Miss Hope.

  I like her ever so ever so ever so much. I’m enormously happy that she’s my best friend in all the world. I didn’t have a best friend before Matty. I had friends. I mostly went round with Cathy and Amanda. They were always very nice to me. It’s just that I knew Cathy liked Amanda best, and Amanda liked Cathy best too. It’s a bit depressing being second-best with everyone.

  Dad says it’s because I started at this school in Year Three, when everyone had already made their best friends. But Matty only came to Heathfield in Year Four and I think practically the whole class wanted to be her best friend, even Cathy and Amanda. But Matty picked me!

  It was right on the very first day, straight after Register. She came up to me and said, ‘Hey, you. Matilda! Guess what, I’m Matilda too.’

  Well, of course I knew that, because I’d just heard Miss Hope call it out, but I pretended to be surprised, just to be polite.

  ‘Really? Wow!’ I said, though it wasn’t really such a coincidence. There are two girls called Ayesha in Year Four, two girls called Eleanor in Year Five and there are actually three girls called Jasmine in Year Six.

  I worried that I sounded silly. I felt very shy of Matty then. She had bright red curly hair, a great mop of it, and lovely green eyes, and a funny turned-up nose sprinkled with freckles. She wore an ordinary Heathfield blue-and-white checked dress, but she’d pinned different badges all over her front and she wore amazing emerald-green trainers, all sparkly with sequins.

  ‘I love your badges and your shoes,’ I said.

  Matty grinned. ‘They’re cool, aren’t they? Miss Hope told me we’re not supposed to wear stuff like this, but she didn’t get cross because I’m a new girl. So, what do you think about being called Matilda?’

  I shrugged, not really knowing what to say. I liked my name. I especially liked it that there was a great story about a girl called Matilda who loved reading. I love reading too. I have six copies of the Matilda book at home because people think it’s a great idea to give it to me for a Christmas or birthday present.

  ‘It’s a totally rubbish name, isn’t it?’ said Matty. ‘But everyone calls me Matty. Do they call you that too?’

  ‘They call me Tilly,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, some of the kids at my old school tried calling me that. Silly Tilly. But I soon put a stop to it. Don’t you mind being called Tilly?’

  ‘Not really.’

  ‘OK then. It might have got a bit muddly if we were both Matty. So shall we sit next to each other in class?’

  ‘Well, I’d love that, but Miss Hope usually says where we have to sit.’

  ‘That’s OK. I’ll tell her I’m shy because I’m new and I need to sit next to someone nice,’ said Matty.

  I was thrilled that she thought I was nice – though Matty was the least shy girl I’d ever met. Somehow she got her way. Miss Hope let her sit next to me, and by the end of that first day I felt I’d known Matty all her life.

  When the bell went for home time she said, ‘Can you come to tea?’

  ‘That would be great, but won’t your mum mind?’

  ‘She’ll be pleased I’ve got a new best friend,’ said Matty.

  She said it so casually, but for me it was the most amazing sentence I’d ever heard. She’d actually said I was her best friend. I must have looked a bit stunned because she gave me a nudge.

  ‘We are best friends, aren’t we?’ she said.

  ‘Yes! Yes, of course we are,’ I said.

  It wasn’t hard to pick Matty’s mum out from all the other mums waiting at the school gate. She had a mop of bright red curls, and so did Matty’s little brother. I liked their clothes too. Matty’s mum had a long green dress and a black velvet coat and purple wedge shoes. She looked very arty, reminding me a little bit of my own mum. Matty’s little brother had six old loom band bracelets on one wrist and a brown bobble hat with a pompom at either side, like ears.

  ‘Hey, Mum!’ Matty called, and took hold of my arm. ‘This is my best friend Tilly. She’s coming to tea!’

  ‘That’s great,’ said Matty’s mum. She smiled at me. ‘I’m Angie. Where’s your mum, Tilly? Shall we check it’s OK for you to come to tea?’

  ‘My mum’s . . . not here,’ I said. ‘Aunty Sue picks me up from school. She’s that lady over there, the one with the beige jacket.’

  Aunty Sue also had beige trousers, and a beige jumper, and beige lace-up shoes. She had beige hair too. The only bright thing about her was her lipstick. I did my best not to get too near her because I didn’t want red smudges all over me. She was the exact opposite of Sylvie, Mum’s friend from when they were at art school together. Sylvie
had collected me from my old school. She always wore black and lots of big bangles and she had hair down to her waist, blue hair. I missed Sylvie now.

  ‘Let’s go and ask your aunty then,’ said Angie.

  ‘She’s not my real aunty – she’s just a lady who looks after me,’ I said quickly.

  ‘Hi, Sue,’ said Angie, as if she’d known her all her life.

  Aunty Sue looked surprised. She’s old, the sort of lady who likes to be called Mrs Brown.

  Angie chatted away without realizing this.

  ‘You want Tilly to come to tea now?’ said Aunty Sue. ‘Well, it’s not quite convenient today, not at such short notice. Perhaps another time.’

  ‘Oh please, Aunty Sue,’ I begged. Perhaps there wouldn’t be another time. Perhaps Matty would choose some other girl to be her best friend and go to tea with her tomorrow.

  ‘Well, we’d have to ask your dad, dear,’ said Aunty Sue.

  ‘Can we phone him?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t think we should bother him at work.’

  ‘He said I can phone him any time I want,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, but only if it’s something very important,’ said Aunty Sue.

  ‘Oh, but it is!’ said Matty. ‘Please let’s phone Tilly’s dad. I’m sure he won’t mind. Go on, Aunty Sue. Be a sport. Please, please, please.’ She clasped Aunty Sue’s beige arm and looked up at her pleadingly.

  Aunty Sue isn’t exactly strict, but I always have to do what she says. I can’t ever get her to change her mind. But Matty worked wonders.

  ‘All right then,’ she said, smiling at Matty.

  She has one of those ages-old phones and she always forgets to charge it. She often forgets how to work it. I held my breath as she fumbled away, but at last she got through to Dad and explained.

  Then she handed the phone over to me.

  ‘Hi, Dad, I’ve got this new best friend called Matty – she’s a Matilda like me – and please can I go to tea with her now?’ I gabbled.

  Dad asked to speak to Matty’s mum, and then he said yes.

  ‘You go and have a lovely time, chickie,’ he said.

  So I did! I’ll never forget that first wonderful tea time. The tea itself was fantastic. Aunty Sue gives me a glass of milk and a chocolate teacake first of all. I don’t mind milk and I like chocolate teacakes, but it gets a bit boring having them day after day after day. Then, if Dad ever has to work overtime and won’t be back in time to give me supper, Aunty Sue microwaves a pizza for me.

  ‘I know pizza’s your favourite, Tilly,’ she always says.

  I love going to Pizza Express with Dad for a treat. Aunty Sue’s little frozen pizzas aren’t the same at all.

  Angie didn’t give us milk or chocolate teacakes or pizza. When we got back to their house she gave us fizzy water with a slice of orange in it and a quarter of a peanut-butter sandwich and a raw carrot and a doll’s-house plastic saucer of blueberries. Matty’s little brother Lewis put his mouth to the saucer and gobbled down more than his fair share of the blueberries.

  ‘Lewis! Don’t get your nasty slurp all over our berries!’ Matty complained.

  ‘I’m not Lewis. I’m a big brown bear,’ said Lewis, patting his bobble hat. ‘You shush or I’ll eat you all up, Matty!’

  ‘I’m not Matty – I’m a bear hunter. Watch out or I’ll go and fetch my gun,’ said Matty.

  She wanted Lewis to stay in the kitchen with their mum while we went off to her bedroom to play.

  ‘I’m coming too,’ said Lewis.

  ‘No, we want to be private,’ said Matty.

  ‘Don’t be mean,’ said Lewis. ‘You want me to come and play too, don’t you, Tilly?’

  I hesitated. He was looking up at me pleadingly with his big brown eyes. I wanted to say yes, but I also didn’t want to annoy Matty.

  ‘It’s my bedroom too,’ said Lewis. ‘So I can go there whenever I want and you can’t stop me.’

  Matty sighed. ‘Worst luck. I wish I didn’t have to share with you,’ she said. ‘You don’t half get on my nerves sometimes.’

  I wished I did have someone to share with. I liked my bedroom. Dad decorated it specially for me, pale blue with white curtains patterned with hyacinths and a duvet to match. He even bought me a cuddly blue bunny, to lounge on my pillow during the day. I like the bunny, but after Dad’s kissed me goodnight I tip it out on the floor and cuddle Stripy. He’s an old bedraggled teddy I’ve had ever since I was a baby. He used to have a stripy jumper but he lost it ages ago.

  It’s a lovely bedroom but it’s a bit lonely in there. I’ve got my books in the bookcase and my china dogs walking along the top of my chest of drawers and my photo of Mum on the bedside table, but that’s about it. I used to have all my dolls sitting on the windowsill, and they would jump down and play with me, but Cathy and Amanda seemed astonished that I still played with dolls. I felt very babyish so I put them in two carrier bags at the bottom of my wardrobe. I got them out weeks later because I missed them so much, but they wouldn’t play any more. They just lay there like dead things. I felt terrible. I sometimes leave my drawing book out and spill my felt tips all over the floor just to make it look as if someone actually uses the room.

  There was no doubt whatsoever that Matty and Lewis used their room. They’d only just moved to their new house but their bedroom was already ankle deep in soft toys and Lego and scribbled drawings and old dolls with weird felt-pen make-up and little ponies and tiny trolls and plastic dinosaurs and books and all sorts of clothes and trainers and boots. There was clutter all over their beds too, and it was hard to tell what colour their wall was because it had so many pictures and posters pinned up on it.

  ‘Excuse the mess,’ said Matty, kicking a space for us to sit in.

  ‘Mum says she’s going to chuck out all our stuff if we don’t tidy up – but she doesn’t mean it,’ said Lewis, climbing to the top bunk bed and sitting there, swinging his legs.

  ‘Does your mum fuss about being tidy?’ Matty asked me.

  I took a deep breath. ‘Not really,’ I said, which was sort of true.

  ‘Soooo – what do you want to play?’

  I fidgeted, not knowing what to suggest. When I went to tea with Cathy or Amanda we usually played games on their iPads or dressed up in their mums’ high heels or watched pop videos and tried to copy the dances. I didn’t know which Matty would prefer.

  ‘Let’s play the Warrior Princess game!’ said Lewis.

  ‘That’s babyish,’ Matty said quickly.

  ‘No it’s not. It’s our best game ever. Go on,’ said Lewis. ‘You want to play it too, don’t you, Tilly?’

  ‘If Matty does,’ I said.

  ‘Well, we could play it just for a bit. To stop Lewis pestering. But don’t blame me if you think it’s a stupid game,’ said Matty.

  It wasn’t a stupid game at all. Lewis was right. The Warrior Princess game was the best ever. It was exactly the sort of game I liked to play. I didn’t know anyone else played like that, especially girls of our age.

  I thought there would just be one warrior princess – Matty. But Matty said we could each be a Warrior Princess, with our own kingdom.

  ‘This is Princess Powerful,’ Matty said, picking up a doll with a green face and scribbled tattoos up and down her arms. ‘She rules over Monster Kingdom. This is her private army.’ She set up all the dinosaurs and trolls rambling over the rugged terrain of assorted books.

  Lewis picked up a doll whose eyes were jammed shut. ‘This is my dolly,’ he declared. ‘She’s Princess Go-to-Sleep who rules over Pillow Kingdom. And these are her army people.’ He gathered up all the soft toys and tucked them up carefully on two pillows and a duvet.

  Then Matty and Lewis looked at me expectantly. I stirred the little pile of dolls. There was one who had a purple face and purple hair too, tied in a ponytail. I picked her up.

  ‘This is Princess Pony and she’s the Warrior Princess of Magical Horse Kingdom,’ I said. I gathered a little herd of toy hors
es, and set them to graze on a green dressing gown. ‘My doll has invisible wings and so have all the horses in her kingdom, so they can flap their wings and fly through the air whenever they want.’

  ‘Hey, you know how to play!’ said Lewis.

  ‘Brilliant, Princess Pony,’ said Matty, looking relieved. ‘None of my friends at my old school had a clue how to play. So, let battle commence!’

  Princess Powerful led her dinosaurs up and down the rocky terrain of her kingdom, ready to attack Princess Go-to-Sleep. The dinosaurs and trolls all growled and gnashed their teeth, ready to rip the soft toys to shreds as they slumbered. But Princess Go-to-Sleep awoke as the first dinosaur pounced and waved her arms in the air while singing a lullaby, and immediately Princess Powerful fell into a deep sleep, snoring very loudly, and all the dinosaurs and trolls became comatose, their plastic feet in the air.

  ‘Attack them!’ Princess Powerful hissed, between snores.

  So Princess Pony mounted her biggest steed, and all the horses started attacking Princess Go-to-Sleep from the rear. When she whirled round and tried to wave and sing them to sleep, they all rose in the air out of her reach, though I let a couple of the smallest ponies fall to earth and start snoring too.

  Then Princess Powerful woke up and there was a prolonged battle, the dinosaurs and trolls against the ponies, while Princess Go-to-Sleep started building a Lego defence wall all round Pillow Kingdom to protect her soft toys.

  We played Warrior Princesses for ages, until Angie called us for supper. That was lovely too. She’d made real pasta with a cheesy sauce and we had a salad too, and then raspberries and ice cream.

  ‘Thank you very much, Mrs Davies,’ I said. ‘That was yummy.’

  ‘I’m glad you liked it, Tilly. Call me Angie – it’s much more friendly than Mrs Davies.’

  Not Aunty Angie, like Aunty Sue.

  Matty’s dad, Tom, came home from work in time for supper. He made a bit of a fuss of Matty and Lewis, romping with them in the hall. I watched, wishing my dad acted silly like that. Then I felt bad and wanted my own dad. All the old feelings came rushing back. What if my dad had had an accident? What if he suddenly decided he needed to have time to himself? What if he simply lost his memory and went wandering off, forgetting all about me? What would I do without a dad? What would happen to me?