night all I could think about was Gregory Langton. If he knew that I fought like this, he’d be so shocked he’d never want to see my face again. He’d be wishing we’d leave town as well.
Those thoughts didn’t stop me beating my opponent, an eighteen-year-old Irish boy with as many freckles as Kimmy and no technique at all. No wonder he ended up fighting in these places. Kimmy held up my hand as the crowd roared, and then she counted out my winnings as I nursed my aching ribs. She got her split. I pocketed the rest. The wedding was costing more and more, but me daddy would never know. I’d made sure he let me take care of the bills.
Two hours later, I crept back through the trailers, the grass soaking wet with dew. I was exhausted, but I didn’t mind. No one was about, just a lone fox sniffing around the place and giving me a sly look before heading off across the fields. And two magpies sitting on top of one of the trailers. Two for mirth, according to Granny Kate. Except there was no mirth about Sabrina today. As I tiptoed into our trailer, she was already awake, cross-legged on her bed, wrapped in the princess quilt and stressing out about something.
“Where have you been?” she said.
“I got up early to go running,” I lied. I shook my damp hair. “Look at me, I’m covered in dew.”
She wasn’t interested. She was holding one of her wedding brochures, screwing it up in her hands. “That stupid manageress woman! She never told me, and now the marquee’s all wrong!” A tear ran down her cheek. “She said the white satin roof drapes were the best. But I’ve seen something much better. I can’t believe she never showed them to us.”
We were holding the reception at the best hotel in Langton, the White Swan. There were too many guests coming to fit into their function room, so we were having a huge marquee on the lawn.
“Stop crying and show me.”
She held out a brochure. “Look! They do starlight roof drapes. We should’ve had those. Ivory and gold silk with lights, Sammy-Jo! Little twinkling lights, like stars.” Her eyes went diamond shaped, and she gave a shuddering breath. “Imagine me and Tyson doing our first dance and little stars twinkling above us!”
She looked at me, pleadingly.
I looked at the brochure. They were in the deluxe section. Maybe the manageress didn’t show them to Sabrina because they were so expensive. As if that would mean anything to my sister. “OK. I’ll sort it. Just shut up and get dressed.”
By the time we were ready, my father was outside enjoying the sunshine and shaving at the same time, the mirror balanced on the bonnet of his Mitsubishi, his face covered in foam.
“We’re off to the White Swan. More changes,” I shouted to him as Sabrina hurried me along. We were dressed for the summer weather, Sabrina in short shorts and me in pedal pushers – to cover any bruises – and a tiny gingham shirt tied in a knot at my waist.
He looked up. “Behave,” he said, but only to me.
“As if I’ve got the chance to do anything else!” I said. “Sabrina’s wearing me out.”
“Just keep her calm.” He glanced nervously at her as she backed the car over the grass towards us at speed. “Don’t set her off.”
I’m the youngest in the family, but you’d never know it. Sabrina was always our mother’s favourite, her baby girl. She suffered the most when our mother died. Planning this big, fat wedding was the one thing that kept her going. She’s been mad about Tyson since she was little, and she’s always been dying to marry him. That’s why I wanted to make her wedding the best ever.
And to shut her up, of course.
-8-
Thursday morning.
Only two more days to go
,
I told myself, as I trailed round after Sabrina and the manageress.
The White Swan is in the centre of town, but at the back it has a lawn as big as a park. Our marquee was already set up in the middle of it. Sabrina was spending ages discussing the roof drapes. Even the
Those thoughts didn’t stop me beating my opponent, an eighteen-year-old Irish boy with as many freckles as Kimmy and no technique at all. No wonder he ended up fighting in these places. Kimmy held up my hand as the crowd roared, and then she counted out my winnings as I nursed my aching ribs. She got her split. I pocketed the rest. The wedding was costing more and more, but me daddy would never know. I’d made sure he let me take care of the bills.
Two hours later, I crept back through the trailers, the grass soaking wet with dew. I was exhausted, but I didn’t mind. No one was about, just a lone fox sniffing around the place and giving me a sly look before heading off across the fields. And two magpies sitting on top of one of the trailers. Two for mirth, according to Granny Kate. Except there was no mirth about Sabrina today. As I tiptoed into our trailer, she was already awake, cross-legged on her bed, wrapped in the princess quilt and stressing out about something.
“Where have you been?” she said.
“I got up early to go running,” I lied. I shook my damp hair. “Look at me, I’m covered in dew.”
She wasn’t interested. She was holding one of her wedding brochures, screwing it up in her hands. “That stupid manageress woman! She never told me, and now the marquee’s all wrong!” A tear ran down her cheek. “She said the white satin roof drapes were the best. But I’ve seen something much better. I can’t believe she never showed them to us.”
We were holding the reception at the best hotel in Langton, the White Swan. There were too many guests coming to fit into their function room, so we were having a huge marquee on the lawn.
“Stop crying and show me.”
She held out a brochure. “Look! They do starlight roof drapes. We should’ve had those. Ivory and gold silk with lights, Sammy-Jo! Little twinkling lights, like stars.” Her eyes went diamond shaped, and she gave a shuddering breath. “Imagine me and Tyson doing our first dance and little stars twinkling above us!”
She looked at me, pleadingly.
I looked at the brochure. They were in the deluxe section. Maybe the manageress didn’t show them to Sabrina because they were so expensive. As if that would mean anything to my sister. “OK. I’ll sort it. Just shut up and get dressed.”
By the time we were ready, my father was outside enjoying the sunshine and shaving at the same time, the mirror balanced on the bonnet of his Mitsubishi, his face covered in foam.
“We’re off to the White Swan. More changes,” I shouted to him as Sabrina hurried me along. We were dressed for the summer weather, Sabrina in short shorts and me in pedal pushers – to cover any bruises – and a tiny gingham shirt tied in a knot at my waist.
He looked up. “Behave,” he said, but only to me.
“As if I’ve got the chance to do anything else!” I said. “Sabrina’s wearing me out.”
“Just keep her calm.” He glanced nervously at her as she backed the car over the grass towards us at speed. “Don’t set her off.”
I’m the youngest in the family, but you’d never know it. Sabrina was always our mother’s favourite, her baby girl. She suffered the most when our mother died. Planning this big, fat wedding was the one thing that kept her going. She’s been mad about Tyson since she was little, and she’s always been dying to marry him. That’s why I wanted to make her wedding the best ever.
And to shut her up, of course.
-8-
Thursday morning.
Only two more days to go
,
I told myself, as I trailed round after Sabrina and the manageress.
The White Swan is in the centre of town, but at the back it has a lawn as big as a park. Our marquee was already set up in the middle of it. Sabrina was spending ages discussing the roof drapes. Even the
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