The It Girl: Don't Tell the Bridesmaid. Katy Birchall

He looked at the state of my room in despair. ‘There are clothes everywhere.’

      ‘Hey, Mr Huntley, you know what would really help our packing?’ Jess looked at him innocently. ‘More brownies. The ones you made this morning were truly remarkable.’

      ‘Oh. Well, thank you, Jess,’ Dad said, his hard expression softening. ‘Baking is one of my hidden talents.’

      I snorted. Dad’s face immediately switched back to his Anna-I-don’t-have-time-for-this-nonsense expression. ‘Anna, I don’t have time for this nonsense. I’m trying to write a chapter about parachutes in my study. It’s not easy when you’re –’

      ‘I promise we’ll be really quiet now,’ I interjected before he could use this opportunity as an excuse to drone on about how writing another boring book about weapons used in the war is for my benefit because who else is putting bread on the table and blah blah blah. I mean, why can’t he write interesting books like romantic comedies? Why does he have to write bestselling books on OLD stuff ? Probably because he is old.

      ‘How is the book going?’ Danny asked politely, as though he were actually interested.

      ‘It’s . . . er coming along, thank you,’ Dad said, hesitating. ‘A lot of pressure with the wedding on top of it all. It would be a bit easier if we weren’t hounded by reporters the whole time, of course, but,’ he smiled, ‘you have to make sacrifices when you’re marrying the woman of your dreams.’

      ‘Ew, Dad, GROSS!’ I wrinkled my nose.

      He laughed. ‘Right, keep the noise down. I better get back to my parachutes.’

      ‘Are you seriously writing a whole chapter about parachutes? What can you even say? They are just big floaty bits of material.’ Jess shrugged, receiving a pointed look from Danny, which she failed to notice. ‘I don’t think you should write a parachute chapter. If you ask me, Mr H, I would stick to explosions and stuff. Give the people what they want. Throw in a love story and you’re golden.’

      ‘Thank you, Jessica,’ Dad replied drily. ‘I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your advice on my life’s work.’

      Jess smirked.

      ‘Your dad is seriously cool,’ Danny announced, looking at me enviously when he had gone. ‘He is writing army books AND dating a movie star.’

      ‘All right, Danny, careful you don’t drool too much on the pillow,’ Jess snorted. ‘It is quite sweet the way he talks about Helena, though. You can tell they’re the real deal even though they’re celebrities.’

      ‘What does that mean?’ I asked.

      ‘You know.’ She shrugged and picked up the magazine, flicking to a page inside and pointing at the showbiz news pages. ‘There’s always drama with famous people and their relationships. They fall in love, they split up, they start dating someone half their age, they go into politics, they get back together and so on and so forth.’ She slapped the magazine back on the table again. ‘Maybe it’s because your dad and Helena are older and wiser. It’s very refreshing that they’re different.’

      ‘Your dad is very patient to put up with all the press attention,’ Danny added solemnly.

      ‘I guess it is tiring for him, especially when he’s trying to plan a wedding and write a book. And then I make things worse by destroying comic book conventions and the photos are on every front page in the country.’ I felt my cheeks go hot as I remembered the look on Connor’s face when someone insensitively asked him to take a photo of them with me when we were desperately trying to find the exit. At least he laughed about it afterwards. ‘Connor is very patient too. He can have a break from it while I’m away.’

      ‘Don’t worry, Anna,’ Jess said, moving back to my pile of clothes and beginning to sift through them again. ‘Look at Notting Hill. It worked out for Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts.’

      ‘Is Connor really not coming on the trip?’ Danny looked disappointed. ‘Who am I going to hang out with when you girls are being . . . girls?’

      ‘Who am I going to hang out with when you lot are on your double date?’ I said glumly.

      Jess rolled her eyes dramatically. ‘Maybe it’s time to make new friends in Rome.’

      ‘No way.’ I groaned as Jess threw one of my skirts across the room. ‘It’s taken me fourteen years to make friends in England. And I speak the same language here. In Italy they wouldn’t even know what I was saying.’

      ‘That could work to your advantage,’ Danny said under his breath with a smile before I threw him an evil glare.

      ‘Stop being so pathetic – you are a particularly awesome friend and . . . Hey, Anna . . .’ Jess hesitated. ‘What’s this? Wait a moment. Is this . . . is this . . . a CAPE?’

      She yanked out a large red piece of material from the pile of clothes and held it up so that Danny could get a good look.

      ‘Does that big glittery gold “A” on it stand for Anna?’ Danny asked, sitting upright and looking mesmerised by it.

      ‘Uh . . .’ I blushed. ‘No?’

      There was a moment’s pause before they both burst into hysterical, uncontrollable, tear-inducing laughter.

      Note to self: it’s time to make new friends in Rome.

      Things you would normally expect to happen at a bridesmaid-dress fitting:

      1. You are cheerily greeted by the bride and anyone else present.

      2. You try on your bridesmaid dress.

      3. The bride and other bridesmaids tell you how wonderful you look.

      4. You all laugh together and excitedly talk about the wedding.

      5. Everything goes perfectly.

      Things that happen at a bridesmaid-dress fitting when the bride is Helena Montaine:

      1. You enter the bride’s house and are greeted by an angry Chihuahua.

      2. You are introduced to the prime minister’s wife, who has dropped by for a cup of tea, while an angry Chihuahua slides along the floor behind you, refusing to let go of your shoelace.

      3. The angry Chihuahua is removed from your shoelace by a member of the bride’s wedding team, and Fenella, the wedding planner, makes a remark when she sees you about how hairbrushes must have gone out of fashion with teenagers.

      4. As you wait for the bride’s daughter to arrive, your own mother decides to fill the time with demonstrations to the bride and the prime minister’s wife of some Chinese martial-art moves she learnt on a recent business trip.

      5. Everything is a disaster. And nothing has started yet.

      ‘Sorry I’m late, everyone!’ Marianne sang as she breezed into the hall, placing her huge designer handbag down on the ground and whipping off her sunglasses, looking every inch the perfect British It Girl as she swept her glossy brown hair away from her face. ‘Did I miss anything?’

      ‘Tai chi,’ I informed her as she came over to give me a hug. ‘And the prime minister’s wife. She just left.’

      ‘Sounds like a normal day in Mum’s household.’ She gripped my shoulders. ‘How are you? After the events of your first date, I mean.’

      ‘Trying to forget about it. The internet won’t let me.’

      ‘Oh, have I been there.’ Marianne grinned. ‘It will go away. Tom thinks you looked adorable, by the way, in that avocado costume.’

      ‘I