Becky's Dress Disaster Read online

  “Can I borrow that a minute?” Fran hissed, flicking a quick glance at Mrs Travers, their super-dull Geography teacher, who was drawing very complicated and boring diagrams of rock-formations on the whiteboard. Amazingly enough, Katie actually seemed to find them more interesting than the diamonds.

  “Sure.” Annabel sounded a bit surprised, but she slipped her little notebook over to Fran. “You want the pen as well?” It was one of her best metallic ones, a gorgeous silvery colour.

  “No, I’ll use pencil, then you can rub it out if you want.” And Fran started to sketch round Annabel’s stunning choker and tiara design.

  “Oooh,” murmured Becky, as she realized what Fran was drawing. “That’s so cool! Which of us is it?”

  Fran looked a bit embarrassed, and stared down at the pretty face she’d drawn in wearing Annabel’s jewellery, which did look remarkably like one of the triplets. “All of you. Oops. Sorry, I know you hate it when people do that. I didn’t think.”

  Becky grinned. “It’s OK. We’ll all be wearing the same for once on the wedding day – it’ll be the first time in years. It’ll be fun.”

  Annabel nodded and smiled too, but the smile hadn’t quite got as far as her eyes, which were a little thoughtful. Did they really all have to look exactly the same? Couldn’t their dresses be just a teensy bit different? She was sure there were ways she could improve on hers…

  Then she leaned closer to Fran and added, “And if you give her a scowl it’ll look absolutely spot-on for Katie…”

  Mum and the triplets met Auntie Jan at Stallford station on Saturday morning, ready for a day of wedding shopping. Annabel could barely stand still for excitement, and Becky was bouncing on her toes, trying to see their aunt over the barrier. Even Katie seemed to have cheered up a bit – she really liked spending time with Auntie Jan. She wasn’t trying to be dismal about the wedding, it was just that the idea of a whole day wearing clothes that were hard to walk in, and make-up that you could hardly talk in, in case it smudged, sounded awful. And it all seemed to take so long to organize. She liked dressing up occasionally, but her idea of dressing up was her nicest pair of velvet jeans and maybe just a tiny bit of Annabel’s lipgloss. It did not involve curling irons, and there was no need for rosebuds whatsoever. It seemed stupid that Auntie Jan wanted the triplets to be a special part of her wedding, but they had to be super-perfect, unreal, china-doll girls, not the triplets themselves. Still, if that’s what she wanted, Katie would do her best, even if she was secretly grinding her teeth the whole time…

  “Auntie Jan!” Annabel had spotted their aunt heading through the crowd, looking crisp and fresh and beautifully turned-out, as usual. They hugged all round, and headed off to a coffee shop nearby so that they could plan the day.

  “So where’s Mark today?” Mum asked, as she sipped her cappuccino, and the triplets tucked into milkshakes.

  Auntie Jan took a mouthful of her jet-black espresso (which Becky thought looked like tar) and sighed happily. “Oh, he’s on his stag do, didn’t I tell you? He and his mates have gone to Silverstone for a motor-racing day – they get to drive the racing cars and everything. Sounds awful to me, but it’s what he wanted. I just told his best man that I didn’t mind as long as he came home in one piece and they didn’t do anything crazy like shaving his eyebrows off.” The triplets giggled, and Auntie Jan finished her coffee and pulled out a very organized-looking list. “OK. We’re leaving the dresses till last, so we don’t have to carry them around with us. And we need the florist, shoes, jewellery…”

  Katie sighed – it was going to be a long day…

  Becky reverently smoothed the dress-bag that was protecting her dress, and shut the wardrobe door carefully. The triplets shared a massive built-in wardrobe that filled one side of their bedroom. It was divided into three sections, one for each of them, but Annabel was currently using a good half of Katie’s section as well as her own.

  The dresses were now totally finished, and they looked fantastic. They’d had one last try-on in the shop to show Auntie Jan, with the dressmaker hovering worriedly in the background, in case anything was wrong, but their aunt had loved them, and she’d headed back to the station looking relieved. Now the dresses were to be stored away carefully until the big day. That was the plan, anyway. Katie had gratefully stuffed hers in the small section of wardrobe she could still get at, and disappeared off downstairs. Becky suspected that Annabel might have other ideas, from the thoughtful way she was eyeing the unzipped dress-bag lying on her bed.

  She was right. Annabel was completely in love with her dress, and the idea of hiding it away for the next two weeks was torture. She didn’t get a chance that day, but as soon as Becky and Katie were both well occupied downstairs on Sunday, she made a beeline for their bedroom and the dress.

  She removed it gently from its bag and laid it carefully out on her bed to gloat. It was so lovely! She stroked the fabric gently, and gave the hem a thoughtful look. She’d really been hoping that when Auntie Jan saw the dresses yesterday she’d suddenly realize that there was something missing. The dresses just needed that extra bit of twinkle. But then Auntie Jan always wore very plain clothes, so she probably just hadn’t spotted it, Annabel reasoned to herself. She wouldn’t mind if Annabel added a little something, would she? And – Annabel suddenly grinned – this way, she would get to have a dress that was ever so slightly different from Katie and Becky’s. She didn’t have quite the same thing about identical clothes as Katie did, but it would be lovely to have an extra-special dress, one that was completely her own. She sat down next to the dress and started to plan…

  Chapter Five

  Once the dresses were safely put away (or hers was, anyway) Katie was able to forget about them for a while, and her mood improved. Mum had gone out with Max’s dad again that Sunday evening, but she was being careful not to make the relationship too annoyingly obvious to the triplets, and they were doing their best to forget about it. A cheerful Katie made life a lot more fun, Becky thought to herself, watching her sister and the others all giggling over some silly joke as they waited for their English teacher to turn up on Monday. Maybe she could stop worrying about Katie, and just concentrate on enjoying the run-up to the wedding?

  “Hey!” A hiss broke into her happy daydream. Becky sat up and looked over, and Katie and Annabel paused their discussion of who was the worst-dressed teacher in the school (current finalist, Mr Jones, their maths teacher, for his habit of wearing grey shoes).

  Amy Mannering smiled sweetly at them, and Cara and Emily, her faithful followers, sniggered meaningfully.

  Becky’s heart sank. It would be so nice to have a day without Katie throwing a strop, or Max being vile, or this little lot trying to ruin things.

  “What?” she snapped, far more forcefully than she would normally speak to Amy, who’d always scared her.

  Amy blinked, not expecting a sharp answer from Becky, who she thought of as a total baby. But then she rallied. “So,” she purred, “how are you getting on with your new big brother?”

  Becky looked blank for a second, then realized that Amy must have picked up on the situation with Max. How did she do it? She was like a one-girl gossip column.

  “So I suppose him and your new daddy will be moving in soon then?”

  Katie looked as though she was about to leap up and throttle Amy right there in the classroom, but luckily Annabel broke in first.

  “Oh shut up. How stupid can you be, Amy? Just shows how much you know about relationships, doesn’t it?” She gave Amy one more dismissive, disgusted look, and turned back to the others, drawing Becky with her by the power of sisterly glare. Then she continued to talk, in a whisper that was calculated to carry as far as possible.

  “I can’t believe anyone could be that babyish, can you? I mean, I know Josh Matthews dumped her, but I thought she knew something about dating. So sad.”

  Much to Anna
bel’s grim delight, Josh had indeed dumped Amy, only a week or so after the Valentine’s Ball where she’d discovered them snuggled up together on a windowsill. The triplets hadn’t been sure whether to be glad or sorry – as Annabel said, he and Amy deserved each other – but at least it wiped the triumphant smirk off Amy’s face.

  Even though Annabel had shut Amy up, the gloss had still gone from the day – the spectre of Max was back. And Becky had a horrible suspicion that Amy had been teasing him too – the triplets were her favourite prey, but she’d have a go at anybody she thought she could get at. Max was looking jumpy and upset – as though he might go off at the first person who annoyed him. Unfortunately, the triplets didn’t actually have to do anything to annoy Max. At the moment, their very existence was enough to drive him mad, especially after Katie had humiliated him the week before. He’d recovered all his old nastiness, but he seemed to be even more desperate, and more hurtful. Katie was his main target – he was aching to pay her back – but he was ready to attack any of the triplets, or their gang of friends. He spent a good ten minutes of their French class that afternoon chucking little balls of paper over at their table, which all turned out to have horrible comments written on them. That just showed how desperate he was, as Mr Hatton, their French teacher, was the strictest person on the planet, and practically telepathic about people messing around in his lessons. Max was lucky, though – Mr Hatton must have been having an off-day.Either that or he was too fascinated by irregular verbs to spot Max’s tricks.

  Becky was really relieved to get home that afternoon – she wanted some time to relax, safely away from Max and Amy and all the stress of school. Mum had a rush project on at the moment, so she greeted the triplets with her hair all on end, and a request to make toast to tide them over for a bit, and she’d get on with tea as soon as she’d got a bit more done. Becky wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, so she nipped upstairs to dump her school bag and get changed, and say hello to Cassie and Fang, then she headed out to the garden shed to spend some quality time with the guinea pigs.

  After twenty minutes of soothing squeaks, peanut-nibbling and soft fur, she was feeling a lot better. She almost felt ready to face her French homework, which was really saying something. She passed Katie up at the top of the garden, where there was a clear space that she used for football practice. She wasn’t looking as though she wanted to talk, but was glaring grimly at the ball, as though daring it not to do what she wanted. Max had really got to her.

  Annabel was in the kitchen, helping Mum make dinner – Mum was looking a lot more human, and humming happily as she chopped the vegetables.

  Becky headed upstairs, and found Orlando and Pixie on the landing, looking ve-e-ery smug for some reason. Becky looked at them suspiciously. They didn’t always get on, so it was quite rare to see them sitting so cosily together. They gazed back at her innocently, and Orlando licked his lips and gave a luxurious stretch.

  The triplets’ bedroom door was open, which was annoying, as everyone was supposed to keep it shut to make sure the cats didn’t get in. They were quite capable of frightening the rats to death by prowling round the cage, or if they worked together they could probably knock it over. If they worked together! Oh no! Becky looked back at the cats’ smug faces, and quickened her pace up the stairs towards the open door. She was dreading what she would find as she rushed into the bedroom.

  The cage door was hanging open. Becky’s heart seemed to jump into her mouth and she gave a little squawk of horror. She scanned the floor desperately – no sad small furry heaps. But what if the cats had eaten … everything! She felt sick, but she forced herself to search the room methodically; under all the beds, everywhere. Nothing. She’d been leaving the cage till last. She didn’t want to see the evidence of the cats’ attack – the broken door, rat toys and bedding spilt everywhere.

  Finally she couldn’t put it off any longer, and she crept over to the windowseat. Strangely, the cage door seemed to be fine – it was just open. And the cage looked as tidy as a cage full of rats ever looks. In fact, that was what it was – a cage full of rats. Becky stared in amazement at Cassie and Fang, snoozing blissfully in their nest, whiskers whiffling gently as they breathed in and out. They were both very much alive.

  Becky took what seemed like the first full breath she’d had in ages, shut the cage door with trembling fingers and then sat down suddenly on the windowseat beside them. She couldn’t believe it. She must not have closed the cage properly when she’d come up to say hi to the rats earlier, and it had swung open. She was amazed that the rats hadn’t made a bid for freedom, though. They loved to run about on the floor. The problem normally was stopping them invading Annabel’s declared rat-free zone. Becky had to build book barricades to keep them where they were allowed to be, and that was almost useless anyway, as they were such fantastic climbers. Becky shook her head slowly as she stared down into the cage.

  Then suddenly she leaned forward. Just what were Cassie and Fang sleeping on? That was not their normal bed of chewed-up paper – it was shiny. Satiny, in fact. Yes, their nest was flecked with scraps of soft, white, satiny fabric.

  Becky froze. Then she turned round very slowly, and looked over at Annabel’s bed. Uh-huh. Her sister had been trying on the bridesmaid’s dress again, and left it lying spread out on her bed, the hem trailing very slightly on the floor – almost as though it had been pulled there by little rat claws. Becky got up, and walked jerkily over to the dress. It was still beautiful. In fact, the delicate pattern of lacy holes around the hem of the front panel really added something, she told herself frantically. She just wasn’t sure that Annabel, or – an even worse thought – Auntie Jan, were going to agree…

  Becky panicked. What was she going to do? Annabel was going to kill her, and then the rats – or possibly the other way round. Becky’s mind was jumping desperately around, willing it not to be true, searching for some magical solution.

  “Becky!”

  She jumped, and yelped in horror. That was Annabel! Was she coming upstairs? What should she do? She snatched up the dress and clutched it to her, hiding the chewed side.

  “Becky! Tea-ea!”

  Oh. It was OK – for the moment. Annabel was just standing at the bottom of the stairs to call her down.

  Becky licked her lips nervously, and managed to croak, “Coming.”

  She heard Annabel bouncing back into the kitchen.

  There was no time for any clever ideas right now, but Becky couldn’t just leave the dress. Annabel would be back to put it away later, and she’d be bound to spot the holes. Becky quickly stuffed the dress back into its bag, and put it away – in her bit of the wardrobe. Fingers slipping with nervousness, she took her own dress, unzipped the bag, and laid the satiny creation gently on Annabel’s bed, as close as she could to where she guessed the original had been.

  Then, still trembling, she went downstairs to force down some food.

  Chapter Six

  Now that she’d added the pattern of twinkly beads round the hem of her bridesmaid’s dress, Annabel was even more in love with it than before. It was partly her own work now, which made it so much better. Of course, it meant that she wanted to try it on even more often. On Tuesday evening, after a trying day at school, she headed upstairs for a spot of dress therapy. All of their teachers seemed to have had the sole aim of making everyone’s lives miserable by loading them with homework, and Max Cooper had spent the entire day hissing mean comments at the triplets. Not that Annabel really let Max get to her – she didn’t intend to, anyway – but the constant drip-drip-drip of nastiness was quite depressing. Even Becky had started to doubt her nice ideas about making friends with such a monster.

  Annabel had been curled up on the stairs, trying to force her brain to understand the periodic table, when she’d decided enough was enough. She’d even tried her patented (well, it would be if she knew how) method for when homework was particularly
impossible. She would reverse her normal position, so that instead of facing up the stairs, she was facing down, with her books on the third step, elbows on the fourth and so on. It was supposed to send the blood to her brain, but it had proved absolutely useless in the face of the noble gases. Honestly! Why did anyone need to know this stuff? She shoved all her books and bits to the side of the stairs – Mum had got sick of tripping over her pencil case – and made for their bedroom. Katie and Becky were sitting at the big table looking as though the periodic table was taking its toll on them too. Actually, Becky had been looking funny all day, and Annabel had assumed it was because Max was really getting to her. She even looked as though she hadn’t slept properly; all white, and shadowy eyes. Drat Max! Annabel resolved to work out some really choice insults ready for tomorrow, so she could leap in and reduce him to a puddle of quivering jelly if he so much as looked at Becky. The dress would probably inspire her, and she was pretty sure Katie and Becky wouldn’t notice what she’d done – it was quite subtle, and they were concentrating. She smiled to herself as she lifted the dress-bag out of the wardrobe.

  Meanwhile, Becky had flinched as she saw Annabel come in, and was now watching miserably as her sister got out the dress – her dress. What was she going to do? It was less than two weeks to the wedding, and she hadn’t got even the merest wisp of a plan. She had a little bit of money in her bank account – maybe she could get it out and somehow sneak off to the dressmaker with Bel’s dress and beg her to mend the chewed bits? But she had a horrible feeling that the dressmaker would ring Mum as soon as she walked in the door.

  Annabel’s happy expression as she lifted out the dress was torture. Becky sighed, which caught Annabel’s attention. She smiled sympathetically. “Max has got to you too? Look, come and try your dress on – it’ll cheer you up, honestly!”