Silver

Chapter 24 - then

The feeling in her room was orange with lime-green speckles. We had to cancel Millie's hens party. I would've gone ahead with it, but Millie's mum was pretty sure that we shouldn't have the party.

Millie had 'sudden weight loss'. Her mother put it down to the stress of the wedding. I put it down to not eating because she wanted to look good for the wedding.

Instead of the hens party we'd planned, I had afternoon tea with Millie in her bedroom. Her mother brought us a silver tray of butterfly cakes, with butter cream and fresh strawberries. From a delicate pastel green teapot I poured us both a cup of tea.

'This feels very swish,' I said to Millie in my most upbeat voice.

She smiled thinly.

She'd gotten out of bed for the occasion. She was wearing an Ock Bock band t-shirt and dark grey leggings and she sat cross-legged opposite me. Her eyes looked more inset than usual and her dark hair looked thin and lifeless.

'Ten more sleeps,' I said, sipping my tea like a lady. I picked up a butterfly cake and took a bite. The opposite wing collapsed into the cream, like a shipwreck. 'Yum, these are beautiful.'

Icing sugar floated onto my skirt. I stuffed the remaining piece of cake into my mouth, so that I could use my hand to wipe the icing sugar off my skirt.

I hadn't seen Millie in a week, as she'd been off school.

'It's so embarrassing,' she said. 'Having to cancel the party. What's everyone saying?'

'We said that you have gastro. No one wants to talk about gastro.'

She finally cracked a smile.

'Are you feeling okay?'

'A bit tired, a bit weak. I just want it all to be over with really. I want to be standing at the aisle and saying my vows already. I want to know what he looks like, the way he speaks, the way he looks at me. I want to know if he's going to like me.'

'Of course he's going to like you,' I said.

'How can you be so sure?'

'What's not to like?' I said. 'Besides, you should be more worried about whether you like him.'

'I just wanted to look good on the day, you know.'

'You're going to look beautiful.'

'The dressmaker said that I'm going to ruin my dress if I lose any more weight. She can't take it in any further.'

'Well don't lose any more weight.' I wondered if I was speaking too frankly. 'I mean, just look after yourself. The dress is going to look fine. You'll look amazing.'

I could almost see her kneecaps poking out of her leggings. When did she get so thin? Why hadn't I noticed earlier?

'He's going to think I'm a freak,' she said, sadly. She closed her eyes, as if she was shutting the world out and herself in.

I hated seeing her like this. Scared. Doubtful. No self-esteem.

'This is all normal,' I said. 'Everyone gets nervous before the big day.'

'I feel sick,' she said, with her eyes still closed. 'I feel sick all the time. Right now I feel like I want to vomit.'

All this sick talk was putting me off my second butterfly cake.

'Just try to relax. It's all going to be fine.'

All of a sudden she uncrossed her legs and walked to the ensuite, closing the door behind her.

I waited for a few minutes. I couldn't hear any vomit sounds, so I decide to have a third butterfly cake. Millie's mum had gone to a lot of trouble, baking those cupcakes, cutting the tops off them to create little butterfly wings and topping them with cream and thinly sliced strawberries. I could almost taste the love that had gone into making those butterfly cakes. A sad feeling crept into me, while I sat there and ate those cupcakes on my own, on the day that was supposed to be Millie's hens party. Millie was still in the bathroom, how long had it been? It seemed like a long time. I couldn't be sure, but I felt like I'd been on my own for a long while.

Millie's mum came into the bedroom.

'I love these cakes, they're delicious,' I said.

'I'm glad you like them. Where's Millie?' she asked, concerned.

'She's in the bathroom.' I didn't tell her that she'd been there for a long time. Suddenly I felt as though I'd done something wrong.

'It's probably time you go now, Sylvie,' she said. 'You can let yourself out.'

I mumbled another thanks and walked slowly down the stairs and let myself out the front door. It wasn't until I was around the corner that I started to process the shock of being told to leave. My best friend's marriage already sucked, big time.