The Baby Bridesmaid. Diane Redmond

>

       For my sister, Kate, a great flamenco dancer!

       Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Dedication

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Keep Reading

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

       Chapter One

      

      When Ella Grant told her little sister that she was going to be a bridesmaid, Rosie had the biggest tantrum of her life.

      “I want to be a bridesmaid too!” she screamed.

      “But you’re such a baby,” said Ella. “No one wants a baby bridesmaid.”

      “Listen, sweetie,” said Mrs Grant patiently.

       “Uncle James and Tiffy are having four grown-up bridesmaids.”

      “I am grown-up!” screamed Rosie. “And I want to be a bridesmaid too!”

      Ella raised her eyes to the ceiling. Her little sister was such a drama queen. Rosie thought that by having a tantrum she could get exactly what she wanted, whether it was sweets in the supermarket or a brand new bike. Well this time Rosie Grant wasn’t going to get what she wanted! Tiffy and Mum’s youngest brother, Uncle James, were having four bridesmaids, four grown-up bridesmaids, and Ella was one of them. Not that she was that grown-up, in fact at ten, she was the youngest of the other three bridesmaids – her cousins, Coralie, Amber and Pearl – but she was a lot more grown-up than Rosie!

      After five minutes Rosie had calmed down.

      “She’s so cute,” sighed Tiffy.

      “Sure she is,” laughed Uncle James as he swooped his youngest niece into his arms. “I’m going to buy you the prettiest dress for the wedding,” he promised Rosie who rewarded him with a big, sloppy kiss.

      “What will we be wearing?” Ella asked Tiffy.

      “I’ll show you on Saturday,” Tiffy replied with a wink.

      The four bridesmaids were dropped off at the Pink Flamingo in Ladbroke Grove where Tiffy was waiting for them. As they tucked into their double-thick milk shakes Tiffy sipped a frothy cappuccino and talked about the wedding.

      “We’re getting married during the Notting Hill Carnival,” she told them excitedly.

      All four cousins gulped on their shakes. They’d been to the Carnival the previous year and knew just how busy the streets could be.

      “How will you get to the church if the roads are blocked?” asked fourteen-year-old Coralie who was the oldest of the bridesmaids.

      “Getting to the church isn’t a problem,” said Tiffy. “St Mary’s is off the beaten track, away from the main Carnival route. It’s getting to the reception that’s going to be the headache.”

      “Where are you having the reception?” Ella asked.

      Tiffy grinned. “Right here!” she announced. “In the Pink Flamingo roof garden. Do you want to see it?”

      Five minutes later the girls were standing in the roof garden, staring in amazement at the trees and shrubs that flourished high up over the streets of Ladbroke Grove.

      “This is fantastic!” cried Amber as they ran around the winding flowerbeds.

      “And it smells so nice,” added Ella, standing under an archway of fragrant pink roses.

      “Look, flamingos!” yelled Pearl.

      In a large pond, shaded with bamboo and willows, pink flamingos preened their bright feathers, totally unconcerned by the noisy visitors.

      “Isn’t it perfect?” sighed Tiffy.

      “Cool!” said Ella.

      Tiffy’s dress was in the window of Bride and Groom in Portobello Road.

      “That’s what I’ll be wearing,” said Tiffy, pointing to a fantastic dress. “As it will be Carnival time, I want a dress to dance in! So, it’s a flamenco dress, you know, the sort Spanish dancers wear when they stamp their heels and click their castanets.”

      The girls nodded, impressed. The flamenco dress had a bright pink, tightly fitted bodice with a long, tight, tight skirt made up of cream silk flounces trimmed with the same bright pink as the bodice. The mannequin in the window wore an amazing headdress. Tiffy told them she’d copied it from a picture of a Brazilian carnival queen she’d seen in a magazine. It was a mixture of exotic wax fruit and silk flowers that perched on top of the mannequin’s head. Then it swept down into a graceful curve which finished just behind the ear.

      “The designer liked my outfit so much he asked my permission to display it in the shop window,” she added proudly.

      “WOW! No wonder. It’s gorgeous,” raved Ella.

      “Come on,” said Tiffy. “Your dresses are inside.”

       Chapter Two

      The bridesmaids’ dresses were exactly the same flamenco style as the bride’s, only shorter and very brightly coloured.

      “I asked the shop to order dresses in all the available colours for you to try on,” said Tiffy, nodding towards a least ten dresses that varied in colour from parrot green to deep mauve; sunshine yellow to raspberry pink. “Let’s just see which suits your skin colour best.”

      As Tiffy and the assistant helped them into their dresses the girls giggled excitedly.

      “We’re spoilt for choice!” cried Amber.

      In the end the dresses chose the girls. Bright tangerine for Coralie, apple green for Amber, sunflower yellow