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Nathalia Buttface and the Totally Embarrassing Bridesmaid Disaster
Nigel Smith
The laugh-out-loud funny girl-series returns – and Nat is more embarrassed than ever! From TV and radio comedy writing talent Nigel Smith.For some girls the chance to be a bridesmaid is a dream come true.But for Nathalia it’s a total nightmare. From the hideous fairy princess bridesmaid dresses, to the disastrous bridal shower, everything about the wedding of her cousin Tiffannee leaves Nat feeling COMPLETELY ridiculous!So when Nat’s best friend Darious Bagley comes up with a plan to get her out of it, Nat jumps at the chance, even if it means being a bridesmaid at another wedding… on the same day! As if that wasn’t enough, guess who’s the head wedding planner? That’s right…Nat’s dad, THE MOST EMBARRASSING DAD IN THE WORLD! Hold on to your fairy wings! There’s only one way this is heading…
Copyright (#u31daf0c4-3b1d-56b9-85f7-b8b42d89c217)
First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Children’s Books in 2016
HarperCollins Children’s Books is a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd. HarperCollinsPublishers, 1 London Bridge Street, London SE1 9GF
The HarperCollins Children’s Books website address is
www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk)
Nathalia Buttface and the Totally Embarrassing Bridesmaid Disaster Text copyright © Nigel Smith, 2016 Illustrations © Sarah Horne, 2016
Nigel Smith and Sarah Horne assert the moral right to be identified as the author and illustrator of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
Source ISBN: 9780008167097
Ebook Edition © 2016 ISBN: 9780008167103
Version: 2016-02-15
To Michèle, for pretending I’m not as embarrassing as Dad.
And thank you to Ruth, for the awesome idea, the amazing editing and the annoying nagging about finishing the flipping book.
NS
Contents
Cover (#ud9e19d4b-529d-5d1a-84a9-1717d3262a91)
Title Page (#u526807b3-0693-5ea2-b08d-0623cb078e79)
Copyright
Dedication (#ufbbdd84d-1a61-5afe-9d9f-74cee89eb778)
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Read more from Nathalia Buttface
About the Author
Rave Reviews for Nathalia Buttface
About the Publisher
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“Dad, I’m not coming out of the changing rooms and I’m not even joking and this wedding is utter pants and I hardly even know my lame cousin and bridesmaids are all rank and I LOOK TOTALLY STUPID and anyway I’m not doing it,” said Nat.
Ever so loudly.
Dad looked at the sour-faced lady who ran DREAM BRIDES LTD – a hot and cramped little dress shop above a newsagents on the high street. He gave her what he hoped was a charming smile. She wasn’t charmed one little bit. Her face, which was stony to begin with, hardened to granite.
“She doesn’t have to shout,” said the lady, who was called Dolly Crumble and who was almost lost among the sickly pink and curdled cream and violently violet fluffy, frilly frocks that filled her little boutique.
“That’s not shouting,” said Dad, whose voice was muffled by some kind of purple velvet thing that was apparently a really important bit of a bridesmaid outfit and seemed to be attacking him. “When she was a baby and was hungry or had wet herself, THEN she shouted. You should have heard it.”
“Shuddup, Dad,” shouted Nat from the changing room. Billowing pink material surrounded her. It looked like she was being consumed by a possessed blancmange.
Dad didn’t shuddup.
“When baby Nathalia started yelling in the car, people thought a fire engine was going past. It was great – everyone else on the road got out of the way. I lost count of how many cars drove into lamp posts.”
“Nobody cares, Dad,” shouted Nat.
“Are you ready to come out yet?” asked Dolly Crumble. “Only you’ve been in there twenty minutes and this is the SIXTH Perfect Fairy Princess dress you have tried on.”
“That’s because they’re all horrible,” wailed Nat. “They all look like vomit.”
“Such language,” said the dressmaker, glaring at Dad as if he was to blame. “I hope she’s going to be a better behaved young lady on the big day.” She sniffed in a superior way and hoisted up her enormous bosom.
“A wedding is the most precious day in any woman’s life. It is, you might say, the best moment of her entire life.”
“Rubbish,” said Nat. “There’s tons of things better than a soppy wedding. There’s getting to number one in the charts or winning Celebrity All-Star Cook-Off or climbing Mount Everest or getting an Oscar or a Nobel Prize or an Olympic medal or going into space or—”
“Yes, well, not many girls will do those things,” interrupted Dolly Crumble, “but all girls can get married.”
“If everyone can do it, that doesn’t make it very special then, does it?” argued Nat. There was a stony silence, like a big, gaping dark hole. Dad jumped into it. With both feet.
“Tell us about YOUR wedding day,” he said. “If I’ve learned one thing in the last few weeks it’s how much women like to talk about weddings. They really REALLY like to talk about weddings.”
Nat thought she heard a rather strained tone in Dad’s voice but as she was still being swallowed by the evil dress, she couldn’t be sure.
The silence got EVEN worse.
“I have not had the pleasure of the bridal day,” hissed the dressmaker. “Well, I had the pleasure of the DAY – the lovely church, the beautiful flowers, the glorious dress, the expectant relatives. What I did NOT have was the pleasure of Derek Sponge, my intended, turning up. No, he decided NOT to marry me, but to run off to Torquay to open a Bed and Breakfast with Sally Bucket, my next door neighbour.”
“Oops,” said Dad, stepping back. “You ready Nat?” he shouted. “We should be off soon.”
“And so I vowed to make every other woman’s day at the altar absolutely perfect, NO MATTER WHAT,” said the jilted bride, “and whatever the bride wants, she gets. And this bride has left strict instructions that her six bridesmaids are to be six Perfect Fairy Princess Bridesmaids.”
Angry little bits of spittle had gathered around MISS Crumble’s top lip.
“And if it takes me all day to turn a turnip into a Perfect Fairy Princess Bridesmaid, then so be it!”
With that she whipped open the changing room door and Nat popped out like a cork from a bottle of pink fizzy pop.
Miss Crumble picked up Nat and dusted her off.
“You’re as beautiful as I can make you,” she said. “Possibly as beautiful as ANYONE could make you.”
“Thanks,” snarled Nat.
Dad pushed the smothering purple material from his eyes. “Let’s have a proper look at you,” he said.
“This is my biggest and best Perfect Fairy Princess outfit. I call her the Esmerelda, the Flower Fairy Princess. Isn’t she beautiful?” said the dressmaker, proudly.
“No, she’s horrible,” said Nat, miserably, “and I’m going to have to walk around in it ALL DAY including at the party afterwards when everyone else is in party clothes and having fun and being all cool. I’m going to look like a cross between Tinkerbell, a stick of candy floss and a sneeze.”
Which is literally what she looked like.
Dad pushed the bit of purple material into his mouth for some reason. “No, it’s all right actually,” he said, squeakily.
Nat eyed him suspiciously.
His shoulders were shaking.
“Are you LAUGHING at me?” said Nat, furiously. “You are, I can tell, don’t lie to me.”
“It’s nice to see you in a dress,” coughed Dad in a strangled kind of way, “even a dress with big pink flowery wings.”
“What even is this on my head?” snarled Nat. “It’s got my hair all tangled up.” Her long blonde hair was wrapped around some kind of pink fluffy crown. She tugged at it, but it was stuck fast.
“It’s a tiara. All Perfect Fairy Princess Bridesmaids have to have tiaras, it’s the law,” said Miss Crumble, advancing towards Nat with a box full of sharp dress pins.
“What law?” snapped Nat.
“Fairyland law. Everyone knows that. Now, stand still and let me take it in. You haven’t got a shape really, have you?”
“Dad, stop her talking about me like this,” said Nat, “she’ll make me sad.”
“She’s a professional,” said Dad. “She’s just got her…er… own dressmaking language.”
“Ow, she jabbed me on purpose,” yelped Nat.
