Page 126 of Storm of Bells
‘Let go of me!’ Amy twisted, trying to slideout of the girls’ grasp once again. ‘You can’t do this!’
‘That’s where you are mistaken,’ I informedher sombrely. ‘I’m the bride. I can do anything I want. Articleseventy-two, paragraph twelve of the revised British BridalSovereignty Code.’
‘You just made that up!’
‘Yes, I’m creative, aren’t I? Now keep stilland be quiet.’
‘You can’t do this! I can’t do this! I can’tbe a bridesmaid! You can’t start buying me things!’
‘You seemed eager enough this morning.’
‘That was when I thought this was all a bigjoke! I didn’t think you’d really want to buy me stuff or want meto be there…well…out there! In the church! In front…’ She swallowedhard. ‘In front of hundreds of people that…that…’
People that would stare at me. People that,if not for you, would throw me out and hurl rotten vegetables in myface, and worse things besides!
I could almost hear her thoughts, so clearlywere they written on her face.
This wasn’t the brash, fiery Amy I was usedto. That Amy would have marched into the church and happily sockedanyone who looked at her the wrong way. But the girl in front ofme…that girl looked scared.
There was only one thing to do:
Rub her nose in it.
‘You aren’tscared, are you?’ Idemanded, raising an eyebrow.
Amy stiffened. ‘Scared?Me?’
I raised my eyebrow a little higher. Over mylong career as an aggravator and off-ticker, I had found thateyebrow acrobatics could be highly effective.
‘Ha! I’ll show you who is scared! Cora? Getoff that darn wobbly stool! And you there, give me that dress!’
Half an hour later, the door ofMrsJenkins’ Clothing & Accessories for Ladies of All Agesopened, and three figures stepped out into the sunlight. The crowdthat had been walking very, very slowly past the store in the hopeof catching a glimpse, stopped in their tracks and stared. With athwack, Amy snapped open her fan and flipped her hair overher shoulder. A grin spread over her face.
‘Well, well, ladies…Shall we go?’
‘Ladies?’ Cora glanced around. ‘Are dere anyladies ‘ere?’
‘I’m talkin’ to ye, ye mutton-headednumbskull!’
‘Oh. Aye, right.’
Quickly, she reached for her fan and tried toopen it. And tried it again. And again.
‘Leave it closed,’ Patsy advised, steppingout of the store behind her and twirling her parasol. ‘It’s easierto whack people that way.’
‘Hm.’ Cora experimentally whacked thedoorframe, apparently thinking it had the approximate density ofthe average man’s head. ‘Thanks for the tip!’
‘You’re welcome.’
Patsy’s parasol snapped open. On Cora’s otherside, Adaira emulated the action, and the crowd backed up,carefully. A wise move in my opinion.
‘Let’s go!’
With new confidence—which was sayingsomething, considering the amount she’d had before—Amy stepped outinto the village street and sauntered along the road, with Cora,Jenny, Eve, Ella, Adaira and Patsy flanking her, shining likepearls in the dirt of the road. I myself quietly brought up therear. I was having far too much fun watching Amy and her friends towalk up front. Cora was still struggling with her fan, apparentlytesting the best way to whack men’s heads. She was quiteentertaining to watch—which was why I was the first one to noticethe man stepping out of a shop straight into her path.
‘Ouph!’
‘Agh!’ Dropping her fan, Cora turned to glareat the man. ‘Watch where ye’re goin’, you gormless basta—’
