Tales From a Hen Weekend by Olivia Ryan Page A

reminding me, if I seem to be reading too much into it. I’ve got enough problems of my own without taking on those of the whole family right now.
    Or maybe that’s the whole point. Maybe worrying about everyone else’s problems is stopping me thinking too much about Matt.

ABOUT HARRY
     
    As arranged, we meet up again at half past seven in the hotel bar, and the first thing I notice when I walk in is that Emily’s got another big carrier bag under the table. Surprisingly, and I know this makes me sound slightly dim, only the second thing I notice is that everyone is in school uniform.
    ‘Oh, no,’ I say, weakly. ‘What the bloody hell…?’
    Everyone – even Mum and Auntie Joyce. They’ve got fishnet tights on, white shirts and school ties, and Joyce has even managed to get her hair into pigtails which must have taken some doing as it isn’t very long.
    ‘But Jude hasn’t…’ I begin, and then I realise why Jude told me to go on ahead as she hadn’t finished getting dressed. ‘The crafty minx!’
    ‘Come on, let’s go back to your room and see how Jude’s getting on,’ says Emily with a wicked gleam in her eyes, picking up the carrier bag.
    ‘I know what’s in that bag.’
    ‘It could be worse,’ she says, laughing, pushing me ahead of her. ‘We considered Naughty Nurses or Mischievous Maids, but we thought Sexy Schoolgirls would be less embarrassing for you.’
    ‘Nice of you, I’m sure. Why?’
    ‘Wait till you get the outfit on. You’ll thank me for it.’
    It’s a micro-gymslip, barely covering my bum. Fortunately it comes with matching navy-blue knickers, but I’m tugging it down as I walk and terrified to bend even an inch from the waist. To go with this trendy and sophisticated garment are: a pair of knee-high white socks, black plimsolls, a regulation blue school shirt, striped tie and a school hat. I look at myself in the mirror and see a reflection of the most unpopular prefect at my school looking back at me.
    ‘Brilliant!’ says Jude, who’s already got herself kitted out in a blazer and skirt.
    ‘Terrific!’ agrees Emily, holding me at arms’ length and surveying me. ‘Now we just need the badge.’
    She pins a big badge on my tie that says NAUGHTY SCHOOLGIRL BRIDE.
    ‘There you go. Now, can you be trusted to behave yourself tonight?’
    ‘No!’
    ‘Good! Let’s go, girls!’
    I thought we were going out straight away, but Emily’s got other ideas in mind.
    ‘It’s too early for dinner,’ she says. ‘We need to work up an appetite.’
    ‘Doing what?’ I ask warily. ‘I am not going to the gym on my hen weekend.’
    ‘They wouldn’t let us in, dressed like this,’ points out Helen. ‘Over eighteens only.’
    ‘We’re going to have a treasure hunt,’ announces Emily, ushering us all back to our tables in the bar and handing out sheets of paper. ‘Winner gets to choose where we go for dinner.’
    Everyone goes quiet as we study the papers.
    ‘So what’s the idea?’ we’re all saying at once – but Auntie Joyce, surprisingly, is one step ahead of us.
    ‘I know. I’ve been on car rallies like this, with my ladies’ group. You have to run around and find all the things on the list. The first one back to base with all the items is the winner.’
    ‘Bloody hell,’ is all I can say. Most of the others are stunned to silence. ‘Are you sure , Emily?’
    ‘You’ve got half an hour,’ she says cheerfully. ‘Get as many of the things as you can, but you must be back here at eight-fifteen. OK?’
    ‘Hang on, hang on,’ says Mum, looking worried, and who can blame her?
    ‘Do you not want to play, Margie?’ asks Jude sympathetically. ‘Sure you could just sit here with Emily and be one of the judges, could she not, Emily?’
    ‘Don’t be silly, Jude – of course I want to play!’ she retorts indignantly. ‘I just think – the way we’re dressed – don’t you think we’d be safer, Emily dear, in a strange city like this with so many drunken