Bad Bridesmaid. Portia MacIntosh

– you just know that one day an architect with endless money had this brilliant vision and the massive, brilliant white, funky-shaped property in front of us was what came of it. I have to admit, I’m impressed.

      I am no sooner out of the car before my parents rush out of the front door to greet me.

      ‘Hi Mum, hi Dad,’ I say with a half-hearted wave. I must have used up the last of my enthusiasm at the train station.

      ‘You’re so thin!’ my mum exclaims as soon as she gets a proper look at me. ‘Don’t let your gran see.’

      Judith Harrison isn’t your typical overbearing mother, in fact she is quite the opposite with me. Both of my parents make a lovely fuss over Belle but when it comes to me, it’s like they can’t quite be bothered. Sure, my mum will comment on how inappropriate my dresses are or how a combination of peroxide and LA sunshine will see me bald by the time I am forty, but they’re not too bothered with how I live my life. It’s not that they’ve given up trying now that they know I am a lost cause, I don’t think they’ve ever had high hopes for me.

      ‘Mia,’ my dad says. That’s his way of acknowledging my existence. The Harrison women may be noisy and bossy but my dad, Ted – the only Harrison man in our house – is very much the opposite, although that probably has something to do with living in a house with three noisy women for so long.

      A middle class couple in their late fifties, my parents are exactly as you would expect them to be: a little bit dull and a lot uptight – and I have no doubt that my sister is heading for a similar fate. In old photos of my parents in their twenties, my mum looks almost exactly like Belle does now – with the exception of the big hair, which I’m assured was the height of fashion back then. So unfortunately for my little sis, she will almost certainly grow up to look like our mum. My mum has her grey hair in, as I like to call it, a Nurse Ratched bob, and her personality is very much like that of the One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest character. I have always found my mum to be on the cold side. She always has to be in control, which makes her actions often seem mechanical, and she can be cruel sometimes – something I think she inherited from her mum. My dad is everything you’d expect of a fifty-nine year old henpecked husband. My mum would look young for her age if she were willing to colour her hair (she won’t because she is dead against it for some reason), but there is no hope for my dad. He is almost entirely bald apart from a few tufts of white hair around the sides and back of his head, and he is embracing his impending old age by wearing trousers that are pulled far too high up. Try and imagine a version of Victor Meldrew that isn’t quite so grumpy and that’s my dad: an indifferent Victor Meldrew.

      ‘This is a nice place,’ I say to no one in particular.

      ‘I know, right?’ my sister squeaks excitedly. ‘There’s a swimming pool, cable TV, wi-fi, there’s, like, a billion bedrooms, a games room… it’s going to be so much fun.’

      ‘Sounds expensive,’ I can’t help but say out loud.

      ‘Nothing is too good for my little girl,’ my dad says.

      ‘We’re just lucky you are the way you are, Mia,’ my mum explains. ‘We had saved up a wedding fund for two daughters, but with you, you know, not being the marrying kind, it made sense to use it all for your sister’s wedding, make it really special for her.’

      Everyone smiles like that is the sweetest thing in the world, but I’m upset.

      ‘So you’re using the money you had saved for my wedding to pay for Annabelle’s?’ I ask.

      ‘Well, you’re not getting married, are you,’ my mum reasons.

      ‘Yeah, but that’s not the point,’ I insist.

      ‘Why can’t you just be happy for me?’ my sister asks me.

      I massage my temples for a moment. Luckily I don’t have any plans to get married, and even if I did I have plenty of money to pay for it myself, but that really isn’t the issue here.

      ‘I could do with a nap, could you show me to my room, please?’ I ask.

      ‘Of course,’ Belle replies. ‘Just let me introduce you to everyone.’

      ‘I’d rather wait until I’ve had a nap and a bath, if that’s OK.’

      ‘Don’t be so selfish, Mia,’ my mum snaps.

      ‘Fine,’ I give in, knowing that it’s easier to just do it than try and fight it.

      ‘Brilliant.’ Belle claps her hands together. ‘Mum, can you help Dan inside, he’s hurt his back.’

      ‘How on earth did he do that?’ I hear my mum ask as my sister drags me into the house.

      ‘Mia did it,’ my sister calls back.

Chapter 5

      I thought the outside of the beach house was beautiful, but it’s nothing compared to the interior. It’s cool, it’s modern and Belle is right, it seems like such a fun place to live. I may not get on with my family and the wedding stuff will probably suck, but at least I can watch movies on the big screen and chill out by the pool – that is when I’m not sunbathing on the beach.

      Belle leads me into the huge sitting room where two couples are sitting opposite each other on white leather corner sofas which make a square shape in the middle of the room. The four of them are drinking tea and chatting but as I walk into the room they stop abruptly and stare at me. The couple on the left are probably a little older than my parents (or perhaps they just look it), but if possible they look even more uptight. The lady is wearing a navy twinset and skirt and the man is dressed in a matching suit complete with cravat, making them look like they should be on a yacht. The other couple are elderly and, again, I’m going to hazard a guess that being cold and uptight runs in their family too.

      ‘Everyone, this is my sister, Mia. She’s just got in from America,’ my sister announces to four unimpressed faces. ‘Mia, this is Harriet and Peter, they’re Dan’s parents, and over here we have Dan’s grandparents.’

      ‘Hello,’ I say brightly, offering my hand for Dan’s mum to shake first, as she is the closest to me.

      ‘Charmed,’ Harriet says coolly as she reluctantly shakes my hand.

      I decide not to bother shaking hands with anyone else, they don’t seem that bothered. It’s awkward for a moment because we’re just standing in front of them and they refuse to continue their conversation while we’re standing there.

      ‘Anyway,’ a cheerful Belle starts, ‘I’m just going to show Mia to her room so we’ll see you for dinner later.’

      I follow Belle from the living room to the kitchen where we find my gran, granddad and my Auntie June. My granddad rushes over to me with as much energy as his eighty-year-old legs will allow and gives me a big kiss and a cuddle.

      ‘Kid, you’re here,’ he says, and for the first time it feels like someone is actually pleased to see me.

      ‘Of course,’ I reply. ‘I’m not going to leave you to suffer this lot on your own,’ I joke, but my auntie doesn’t find this funny and tuts loudly.

      ‘Hello Gran,’ I say as I walk over to where she is sitting. She offers me her cheek, which I dutifully kiss, before prodding me in the ribs.

      ‘You’re not eating, Mia,’ she says angrily. ‘I’m not letting you get back on that plane until you are a healthy weight.’

      I roll my eyes at this but I can’t help but smile too, because I know that this is just my gran’s way of loving me. If Belle looks like a younger version of my mum then my mum looks like a younger version of Margret, my gran. Belle may still be bright, bubbly and sickly sweet – but I don’t doubt for a second that she’ll’ end up like my mum, my auntie and my gran – or the three witches as my granddad, Jack, calls them. My granddad is hilarious, constantly making