Free Bridesmaids by Jane Costello Page B

thing is, Simon wants a story about it and I can’t go home completely empty-handed. Shall we just try to get the photo done with and then go?’
    ‘She bloody well can speak French,’ protests the farmer, obviously having overheard me. ‘But she won’t do it if she’s under stress. And you coming in ’ere telling her she’s not capable won’t be helping.’
    We eventually manage to persuade him to pose for aphoto with Lizzie in exchange for a few glossy copies of it to hang on his wall. Mickey, still muttering under his breath, takes it in record time.
    ‘I remember when this used to be a paper of record,’ he complains to me.
    ‘Don’t blame me,’ I reply. ‘I’m as chuffed to be here as you are.’
    ‘So,’ says the farmer, ‘when will it be in?’
    ‘I’m not sure yet,’ I say. ‘It’s one of those stories that we call “hold-able”. If the city centre is razed to the ground, I’m afraid it doesn’t go in until the next available slot.’
    Which will be never, if I’ve got anything to do with it.
    ‘Only I’ve got the nationals interested too,’ he says, ‘so you’d better get in there quick.’
    ‘Thanks for the tip,’ I say, trying not to smirk. ‘Come on, Mickey, let’s go.’

Chapter 26
    Alderley Edge, Cheshire, Saturday, 17 March
    Another Saturday, another dress fitting. But this time, it’s for the wedding of Georgia and Pete. And this time, the budget is so big it should be listed on the Stock Market.
    ‘How much is this wedding costing exactly, Georgia?’ asks Valentina idly as she examines a rail of dresses which, tellingly, don’t even have price tags.
    ‘About two hundred grand at the last count,’ says Georgia, immediately looking like she wished she hadn’t let it slip. ‘I mean, not that it matters what it’s costing. We could be getting married in Chorley Register Office, for all I care.’
    ‘Thank God it’s already booked,’ mutters Valentina.
    The reality is that Georgia’s big day couldn’t be less like a session at Chorley Register Office. In fact, the ceremony is happening in the Isles of Scilly and is on course to be so lavish, it will make the average royal wedding look like something out of Coronation Street .
    Georgia is having six bridesmaids and we’re all here today for fitting number two, in a boutique so upmarket that even the dummies in the window have attitude. Actually, that’snot strictly true. We’re all supposed to be here, but Grace, typically, is late following a domestic crisis caused by Polly having fed the rabbit some leftover chicken jalfrezi.
    Georgia’s two younger cousins are also here and today is the first time we have met them. Beth and Gina are both in their early twenties and are so pretty you could mistake them for younger sisters of Catherine Zeta Jones. Valentina could barely hide her disappointment when they arrived.
    Then, of course, there is Charlotte, who looks about as cheerful at the prospect of being a bridesmaid again as the average Death Row prisoner.
    ‘You okay?’ I ask, as she sits down next to me on a velvet stool.
    She nods and attempts a smile.
    ‘It’s not really your sort of thing this, is it?’ I whisper.
    ‘Not really,’ she says. ‘I’ve put on at least half a stone since Grace’s wedding. I’ve not weighed myself, but I know I have. Only my Evans cords would fit me this morning.’
    I put down the bridal magazine I’ve been flicking through and place a supportive arm around her. Then, the curtain is pulled back and Georgia emerges in her wedding dress, smiling from ear to ear.
    ‘What do you think, girls?’ she asks, twirling around as her gorgeous silk skirt skims the floor. She does look amazing and even Valentina joins in our cacophony of approval.
    ‘Well, I’ve got to admit it,’ I tell her. ‘You scrub up well.’
    ‘Do you think so?’ she says, grinning excitedly.
    ‘Absolutely. I think you should have gone for more frills though judging by some of these,’ I joke,