Sleeping Arrangements

Chapter OneThe sun was a dazzling white ball, shining brightly through the window, making Chloe's tiny sitting room as hot as a roasting dish. As Chloe leaned closer to Bethany Bridges, she could feel a bead of sweat beneath her cotton dress, making its careless way down her backbone like a little beetle. She inserted a pin into a fold of heavy white silk, yanked the fabric hard against Bethany's skin, and felt the girl take a panicky inward gasp.It was too hot to work, thought Chloe, standing back and pushing tendrils of wispy fair hair off her forehead. Certainly too hot to be standing in this airless room, corseting an anxious overweight girl into a wedding dress which was almost certainly two sizes too small. She glanced for the hundredth time at her watch, and felt a little leap of excitement. It was almost time. In only a few minutes the taxi would arrive and this torture would be over, and the holiday would officially begin. She felt faint with longing; with a desperate need for escape. It was only for a weekbut a week would be enough. A week had to be enough, didn't it?Away, she thought, closing her eyes briefly.Away from it all. She wanted it so much it almost scared her.'Right,' she said, opening her eyes and blinking. For a moment she could barely remember what she was doing; could feel nothing but heat and fatigue. She had been up until two the night before, hemming three tiny bridesmaids' dressesa hasty last-minute order. The hideous pink patterned silkchosen by the bridestill seemed to be dancing in front of her eyes; her fingers were still sore from clumsy needle pricks.'Right,' she said again, trying to muster some professionalism. Her gaze gradually focused on Bethany's damp flesh, spilling over the top of the wedding dress like overrisen cake mixture, and she pulled an inward face. She turned to Bethany's mother, who sat on the small sofa, watching with pursed lips. 'That's about as good a fit as I can get. But it's still very much on the tight side ... How do you feel, Bethany?'Both women turned to survey Bethany, whose face was slowly turning puce.'I can't breathe,' she gulped. 'My ribs ...''She'll be fine,' said Mrs Bridges, eyes narrowing slightly. 'You just need to go on a diet, Bethany.''I feel sick,' whispered Bethany. 'Honestly, I can't breathe.'She gazed with silent desperation at Chloe, who smiled diplomatically at Mrs Bridges.'I know this dress is very special to you and your family. But if it's really too small for Bethany ...''It's not too small!' snapped Mrs Bridges. 'She's too big! When I wore that dress, I was five years older than she is now. And it swung around my hips, I can tell you.'Involuntarily, Chloe found her eyes swiveling to Bethany's hips, which pressed unhappily against the seams of the dress like a large mass of blancmange.'Well, it doesn't swing round mine,' said Bethany flatly. 'It looks awful, doesn't it?''No!' said Chloe at once. 'Of course it doesn't. It's a lovely dress. You just ...' She cleared her throat. 'You just look a little bit uncomfortable around the sleeves ...and perhaps around the waistline ....'She was interrupted by a sound at the door.'Mum!' Sam's face appeared. 'Mum, the tWickham, Madeleine is the author of 'Sleeping Arrangements', published 2008 under ISBN 9780312383428 and ISBN 0312383428.