Elizabeth held her camera out in front of her,
adjusting its position slightly before capturing the perfect shot of her sister
and her new husband, toasting their marriage with glasses of champagne
sparkling with black glitter. Two fat pumpkins sat in front of the couple, the
words ‘Mr’ and ‘Mrs’ carved into the flesh, one either side of the cobwebby
candelabra that was creating a gothic centrepiece. Caroline and Robert’s
Halloween-themed wedding wasn’t everybody’s cup of tea, but it suited the pair
down to the ground and even the groom’s grandmother, who’d been vehemently
against the idea since its conception, was enjoying herself. It seemed she’d
put aside her misgivings as soon as she’d changed into her witch’s costume that
morning. She’d spent the day cackling dramatically (though thankfully not
through the vows) and she’d nearly put her back out dancing to the ‘Monster
Mash’.
Halloween was already a special date in the
Caroline/Robert calendar; they’d known each other all through high school but
they were just friends, until five years ago when they met up again at a
Halloween party at the local pub. So what better way to mark the occasion? All
the guests were decked out in ghoulish costumes: Elizabeth and Caroline’s
parents were being Morticia and Gomez for the day, while Robert’s parents,
thinking outside the box, had dressed as a Colonel Sanders and chicken combo.
The bride had transformed herself into Dr Frankenstein, complete with white lab
coat and long, black rubbery gloves, while the groom was her gruesome creation.
The prize for scariest costume, however, went to Elizabeth’s Uncle Ernest, who
had put aside his usual beer-swilling, brick-laying persona to become Rocky Horror’s Frank-N-Furter, and had
somehow stretched his corset over his hairy beer belly. Elizabeth feared she
would never be able to unsee that.
‘I'd just like to say a few words,’ Caroline said as
she stood, readjusting her bedraggled grey wig. ‘First of all, thank you all
for celebrating this special day with us. You’ve all really got in the spirit of our Halloween theme –
especially you, Uncle Ernest.’ There was a titter as Ernest attempted to take a
bow in the restrictive corset. ‘I’d like to say an extra-big thank you to our
parents, who have helped to organise this crazy day. And to my little sister.’
Caroline raised her glass in Elizabeth’s direction. ‘You’re the best sister a
girl could ask for and you’re a frightfully
brilliant bridesmaid.’ Caroline raised her glass again and addressed the whole
room. ‘To friends and family!’
‘To friends and family!’ the room chorused, and
Elizabeth grabbed her drink so she could join in the toast.
‘So, you’re
Caroline’s little sister.’ A witch (there were several attending the wedding)
leaned across the table as Elizabeth slipped her camera into the red and black
clutch bag she’d managed to find to match her vampire gown. ‘We’ve heard a lot
about you.’
But evidently
not my name, Elizabeth thought crossly, but she pushed down the resentment
and smiled at the witch. It seemed Elizabeth was forever to be known as
‘Caroline’s little sister’. Everybody knew Caroline, and they couldn’t help
being smitten with her exuberance, her sense of humour, her ability to talk to
anybody and put them instantly at ease. The teachers loved the studious, arty,
sporty Caroline, the perfect all-rounder, and the joy at having the pleasure of
teaching her younger sister was always clear on their faces (though Elizabeth
was sure that soon waned when they discovered she wasn’t as clever or athletic
as Caroline and had little artistic flair). Elizabeth found she was off-limits
for boys at school; they either feared being pummelled into the ground by the
overprotective Caroline, or they fancied the more mature, more polished sister.
Elizabeth adored Caroline (how could she not?) but
she couldn’t help wanting to break free from under her shadow, because even
now, all these years later, she was still ‘Caroline’s little sister’. Even when
she was wearing a fitted gown, with its black lace and red satin corset, with a
tantalising slit to mid-thigh, she was still the baby sister instead of
Elizabeth, a woman in her own right.
‘It was lovely to meet you,’ Elizabeth said after
the witch had chewed her ear off for a good twenty minutes. It turned out the
witch was Robert’s aunt and she had many, many
tales to tell about her nephew. Elizabeth couldn’t wait to tease her new
brother-in-law about his childhood Barbie collection, but first she needed a
champagne top-up.
‘There you are.’ Caroline grasped hold of
Elizabeth’s hand en route to the bar. ‘There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Do
you remember me telling you about that guy from work?’
William, the tall, extremely handsome IT manager?
Yes, Elizabeth could recall that conversation, and she’d been looking forward
to meeting him. One of the best parts of being a wedding guest when you were in
your mid-twenties and very much single was the potential to meet new people.
And William was even more gorgeous than her sister had described.
‘William, I’d like you to meet Elizabeth.’ Caroline
pushed Elizabeth, who was rather agog at the Adonis in front of her, forward
slightly. Who knew a zombie could be so damn hot?
‘Hi.’ William’s smile was faltering as his eyes
flicked from Caroline to Elizabeth and back again. He quite clearly didn’t have
a clue who she was.
‘Elizabeth is my little sister.’
‘Ah! Yes!’ William’s smile was full and genuine now
he was up to speed. ‘Hello, Caroline’s little sister.’
Oh, for
goodness sake.
Elizabeth held back a sigh and plastered on a smile.
‘Hi, William. Lovely to meet you. I was actually just on my way to the bar, but
maybe we could chat later?’
Caroline was frowning as Elizabeth backed away, but
she wasn’t about to waste her time on a bloke who either couldn’t remember her
name five seconds after they were introduced or, worse, couldn’t be bothered to
use it. No chance. She’d been ‘Caroline’s little sister’ for too long. It was
time to spread her vampire wings and remind people she had her own unique
identity. She’d grab a drink and then she’d –
‘Whoa!’ Her arms flailed as she was met by a solid
mass. A couple of hands reached out to steady her and she laughed away her
embarrassment.
‘I am so sorry,’ she said to the werewolf she’d reversed
into. ‘Wasn’t looking where I was going.’
‘No worries.’ He gave a little shrug before his head
tilted to one side, his eyes narrowing as he observed Elizabeth. ‘You’re
Caroline’s little sister, aren’t you?’
Elizabeth fought to keep her smile in place. Here we go again. ‘Yes, I am.’
He nodded, looking pretty pleased with himself. ‘I
went to school with Caroline and Robert. I thought I recognised you.’
But you didn’t,
Elizabeth thought. Not quite.
‘Come and
dance with us!’ Caroline called as she whizzed by, pointing frantically at
William, who was just ahead of her.
‘I should…’ Elizabeth indicated the dance floor,
which was filling up at Caroline’s insistence. There was no party quite like a
Caroline party.
The werewolf nodded. ‘I’ll maybe see you later? It’s
Elizabeth, right?’
She paused, the smile slipping from her face, but it
was due to shock rather than annoyance this time, and her jaw started to drop.
‘You were a year below us,’ he said, and Elizabeth
nodded, her jaw still somewhere near the floor. She peered at the werewolf but
it was hard to tell who he was under the grey face paint and fake fur.
You’re
Elizabeth.
‘Don’t worry,’ the werewolf said as Elizabeth
continued to peer at him. ‘You probably wouldn’t recognise me even without the
costume.’ He scratched behind his ear (his real ear, not the furry ones on top
of his head). ‘I was too shy to talk to girls at school. Especially the
prettiest ones.’
Elizabeth laughed when he winked at her. She
couldn’t help it, it bubbled up out of nowhere. ‘You seem to have grown out of
it.’
The werewolf gave a slow nod, as though musing the
statement. ‘I guess I have.’ His eyes wandered down the vampire costume to the
flash of thigh. ‘And I see you’ve grown out of pigtails and fluffy backpacks.’
She pressed a hand to her mouth to stop another
giggle in its tracks. She’d loved
that fluffy backpack and had thought she was the epitome of cool whenever she
used it.
‘You really do remember me.’ Elizabeth felt the
corners of her lips pull up into a smile. He remembered her. Elizabeth, the girl with the pink, fluffy backpack. The girl
in her own right. Right now, to the werewolf at least, she wasn’t just the
bridesmaid of Frankenstein.
‘Just how sharp are those claws?’ She indicated the
rubbery tips at the end of the werewolf’s furry gloves. He held them up, a
bemused smile on his face.
‘Not very. Why?’
She took him by the paw and led him towards the
dance floor just as the intro to Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’ started.
‘Because I’d like to dance with you, and I don’t
want you to snag my dress.’
