Nathalia Buttface and the Totally Embarrassing Bridesmaid Disaster

“One flob-accinno coming up,” said Darius, guessing what Nat was thinking.

“In Texas, when we ask for a bacon sandwich we get half a pig between two loaves!” yelled Mr Wartburger III. Everyone in the cafe was now looking at them. Nat moved her chair away and looked at a picture on the wall, trying to pretend he was nothing to do with her.

“Everything’s bigger in Texas,” said Darius.

“That’s right,” said Hiram.

“Like the cars.”

“Massive, yup.”

“And houses.”

“Huge, you got it.”

“And people’s heads.”

“Definitely,” said Hiram, “They’re very big.”

“And their mouths?”

“That’s right, we got great big mouths, and they’re bigger than anyone else’s mouths, and don’t you forget it, sonny boy.”

By now the whole café was laughing.

Hiram stopped and frowned.

“Hey…” he said, glaring at Darius, but Darius had put on his best blank expression, the one Nat knew he used when he was pretending not to understand something in maths because he couldn’t be bothered to do it.

And then… Hiram threw back his head and burst into the loudest – and most embarrassing – laugh Nat had ever heard. “Ha ha ha. That’s good, that’s real good, you got me,” he said crying tears of laughter and shaking his head.

Afterwards, they walked around town, with Tiffannee pointing out some of her favourite places; the cinema, the swimming baths, the nail bar. According to Hiram, everything was ‘cute’ and ‘adorable’ just like his ‘hunny bunny’. Nat started feeling a bit sick.

So she wasn’t keen when Hiram insisted on taking everyone to “one of those quaint old tea rooms” next because he’d heard so much about them.

“They’re on every street corner in England, right?” said Hiram, over the noise of the traffic. “The ones with the thatched roofs, roses up the wall, little old ladies on bicycles with big pots of tea and muffins and cucumber sandwiches, am I right?”

Nat looked around at the street. There was a mini-mart and a tattoo parlour, a 24-hour locksmiths, a cab office and a charity shop.

“We might have to go into the countryside,” said Dad, “for the whole thatched roof thing.”

“OK, let’s walk to the countryside. It can’t be far, your whole island is tiny.”

Even Tiffannee looked embarrassed now.

“Well, might be easier if we drive,” said Dad, who liked to help. “Hop in the Atomic Dustbin, we’ll find somewhere.”

As Nat clambered in she hissed, “Just don’t go anywhere that you might want to go to again, ever.”

“Don’t be like that,” said Dad. “He’ll be family in three weeks,”

Nat groaned. She hadn’t thought it possible, but this wedding was getting WORSE by the second.

“How’s the brilliant plan coming on?” she hissed at Darius. He rubbed his stomach, which was as tight as a drum.

“Too full too think,” he burped, contentedly.

Yes, thought Nat, worse and worse.

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A little later and the sun had come out and Dad had stumbled on a lovely tea room in the kind of perfect, rose-clad cottage that make Americans go weak at the knees.

“Lemme tell you about our vision for the wedding,” said Hiram J Loudmouth, as they sat in the little garden at the back of DINGLEY DELL TEA ROOMS AND COUNTRY FAYRE SHOPPE. He munched on an enormous slice of Victoria sponge, scattering crumbs as he spoke.

“Magical, fairytale, ye olde worlde, English, retro, vintage, countryside, historical, garden,” said Tiffannee, counting off the ‘buzz words’ on her fingers.

“It’s modern, but with a traditional twist,” agreed Hiram.

“Yes, yes, we know,” said Nat, “we’ve been organising it for you for ages now.”

“Yes, but I think we can do more,” he said. “Since I’ve been here, I’ve been stuffing myself with your culture.”

And cake, thought Nat, wiping crumbs off her top.

“You’ve got a church booked, you’ve got six Perfect Fairy Princesses…” began Dad.

“Five,” corrected Tiffannee, “one so-called friend has let me down and won’t even say why!”

That’ll be hair and eyebrow-less Bella then, thought Nat.

“You know, Tiffannee cried for two solid hours when she found out,” said Hiram. “The hurt that selfish woman has caused…”

“At least she wasn’t family,” breathed Tiffannee. “Can you imagine?”

I’m trying not to, thought Nat, wincing inwardly.

“…and then you’re going to that posh castle golf club hotel where there’s a lunch and then a band and a disco,” said Dad, carrying on. “And wedding centrepieces,” he added, quickly.

“OK so we got the basics,” said Hiram, “but where’s the maypole?”

Dunno where it is but I know where I’d like to put it, thought Nat.

“Erm…” said Dad.

“Maypole. We want old English, right? So we need morris dancers, a jack in the green, a troupe of mummers…”

“…some jugglers, clowns, folk singers, food vans, hog roast,” Tiffannee finished.