Free He Called Me Son (The Blountmere Street Series Book 1) by Barbara Arnold Page B

his throat.
    ‘What sort of dress will I have?   Will it be long?   And what colour?’
    The way Angela was carrying on, anyone would have thought she was the one who was getting married.
    ‘How about you choose it yourself?   We can go shopping for the material and a pattern, and perhaps your mother will make it.’ Lori stopped.   ‘I had actually meant to ask you first, Dolly, but we seem to have got a little ahead of ourselves.’
    Mum, smiled a soft sort of smile.   ‘I’d be delighted to make Angela’s dress, and a month would give me plenty of time.   ‘What about yours?   She asked.   ‘I’ll make that too if you like.’
    ‘I thought I’d wear a suit.’
    ‘I could cope with a suit,’ Mum assured Lori in her usual quiet way.   Mum’s eyes hadn’t looked that bright with glinty lights in them since our christening.
    ‘Now, Tony, I think it’s our turn.’   Fred put his arm around my shoulder which always made me feel proud, especially if he did it when we were out.  
    ‘As you know, my son is in New Zealand, and I don’t have any family member living close who I could ask to be my best man, so I was wondering if you would take on the role?’
    In contrast to Angela’s noisy and unusually lovey-dovey reaction, mine was the opposite.   Gulping and swallowing, I looked from Fred to Lori, across to Angela and Mum and back to Fred.
    ‘Do I take it, you’ll agree?’ Fred asked.
    ‘Yeah, sure.’
    Fred gripped my hand and shook it.   ‘While the ladies are sorting out their paraphernalia, we’ll get ourselves fitted for a couple of suits.   What do you think?’
    But all I could manage was a strangled, ‘Smashing.’
     
    I couldn’t wait to get downstairs to the Dibbles to tell Paula all the wedding plans.   As soon as Fred and Lori had left our kitchen, holding hands and giving each other dopey looks, I bolted down our stairs, tugged open our door, crossed our doorstep to the Dibbles’ one, and hammered on their front door.
    ‘Guess what?   Fred and Lori are getting married,’ I told her as soon as Paula opened the door.   ‘Angela’s going to be a bridesmaid and I’m going to be Fred’s best man.’   I waited for Paula’s usual enthusiasm, but all she said was, ‘That’s nice.’   Her voice was as flat as the hedgehog in the middle of the High Street.
    ‘And the wedding’s going to be …’
    ‘Look, I’ve got to go.’   And before I could finish my sentence, she darted back inside and closed the door.
     
    Paula wasn’t the only one who showed no interest in Fred and Lori’s wedding.   Dennis and Herbie hadn’t seemed to care that I was being Fred’s best man and wearing a proper suit.  
    ‘My cousin had a suit and he looked a right chump.   I wouldn’t want one.   I’ll tell you that for nothing.   I’d rather have a cowboy jacket with fringes down the sleeves like the ones Roy Rogers wears.   Anyway, your suit’ll only have short trousers.   You’re not old enough for longs.’   Dennis finished by waving his arm about, as if he was dismissing the idea of a suit altogether.   Herbie nodded in agreement, while I tried to force down a sensation as if a log had become jammed in my throat.   I hadn’t expected Herbie and Dennis to be interested in the wedding itself, but I had thought they would think I was lucky to be getting a proper suit.   Instead, all they did was laugh at Herbie’s silly jokes.
     
    I would never have believed a wedding of all things would bring Angela and me closer.   With Paula drooping round like Sunday’s celery on Monday, and Dennis and Herbie continuing to make stupid comments, Angela and I began to talk to each other about things we would once have thought drippy.
    A few days after Fred and Lori announced their engagement, as she promised, Lori took Angela to choose the material for her bridesmaid dress.
      Afterwards Angela bounced into the kitchen as if she was on a pogo stick.  
    ‘What d’you