Candice

Candice: The Bride the Groom Didn't Recognise

Copyright Oggbashan February 2005

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

WARNING: this story is intended for an adult audience. It should not be found in locations accessible to those less than 18 years of age or the age appropriate by the laws of your country.

*

This is the sixth story of The Silverbridge Chronicles.

Some of the other stories are:

01 Lisa Trains Thomas

02 Lisa's Adjustable Petticoat

03 The Procession

04 The Vinyl Dress

05 The Clam, The Half-Clam and The Candle-Snuffer

06 Candice (this one)

07 The Cage Crinoline

08 Norwegian Petticoat

09 The Stag Party

10 The Hen Party

11 The Bridesmaids' Revenge

* * * * *

I stood in the bedroom looking carefully into the long mirror. Although I had caught and tamed George and I was to marry him on Valentine's Day, I wasn't happy with my reflected image.

It wasn't my self-image that was flawed but the real me. As a staff nurse I knew enough about eating disorders and basic psychology to dismiss those factors. I was fit. I had to be. I played football in the Silverbridge Ladies' team, "The Silver Vixens", so I kept in training.

I also ignored the fading bruises on my legs. They were a normal hazard of being a hard-working defender.

I was slim, rather too slim, almost thin and bony. My skin, particularly on my face, looked dull and blotchy. My hair was a mess. I didn't spend enough effort repairing the damage it suffered stuffed into protective headwear in the operating theatre. I wore glasses. I didn't have to look to know that my nails were chipped and ragged. Yet George loved me!

I wanted, for the first time in my life, I really wanted to be attractive. Men seemed to like my company. I had never been at a loss for an escort but... they didn't look at me as they looked at Jane, for instance. I wanted to be a beautiful bride and not look like a frump in a beautiful dress. The dress would be beautiful because Lisa would make it to flatter my attributes, but I wanted to be beautiful as well. I laughed at myself. I wanted the Ugly Duckling to turn into a Swan - if only for one day! But my laughter was hollow. Impractical though it might me I yearned to look better than my reflection cruelly revealed me now.

I knew I needed help. I had friends. Those friends have skills. The first step was to admit the problem and ask for help. I thought who would be the best person to ask to start the ball rolling, then I picked up the phone...

"Lisa? It's Candice. I've got a problem I need help with. Can I come to see you sometime soon?"

"Of course, Candice. How about this evening? Is it a girl-only thing? Thomas will be out but Harold will be here working on the shop's accounting system. You could see me alone, or can I involve Harold as well?"

"It's sort of a girl thing, but I think Harold could help as well if he's around. Since it's a Tuesday, George will be at his evening class, so I'm free."

"OK Candice. I'm doing a casserole so you could eat with Harold and me, if that's convenient. Thomas will eat when he gets back."

"Yes, please, Lisa. What time?"

"If you get here about 7pm we could chat a bit before the meal and then get serious afterwards. That suit you?"

"Yes thank you, Lisa. See you at seven. Bye."

I rang off. I shivered. I had committed myself at least to discuss my problem. That had been a major step after the first one of admitting that I was unhappy with my appearance. I felt nervous but Lisa, Thomas and Harold were real friends. They wouldn't laugh at the idea of me wanting to be glamorous, would they? My brain told me they wouldn't but a small part of me was scared stiff. Some of my friends might laugh because I'd never tried to be anything other than my unadorned self.

I wasn't even sure how George would react. Would I have to learn to use make-up, to style my hair? I'd been too involved in my work and my football to think about presenting myself as a woman. What might I be letting myself in for?

I made myself switch that subject off and went about my daily life until it was time to go to Lisa's flat.

When I arrived at Lisa's flat, Harold was still in the shop, working on the computer. Lisa welcomed me.

"Hi Candice! Want a drink before we eat? You can have coffee, tea, or whatever."

"Thanks, Lisa. I think this time I need some tea."

"That bad, eh? OK Tea it is."

I went into the living room and sat down. I was nervous despite everything I'd told myself. Even though I would be talking to friends I didn't know how to approach the subject. Lisa came in carrying a tea tray, pot and all. Had she prepared for a long session?

"Candice, please stop looking as if I'm going to eat you. You know I'm a friend, and I don't bite friends - at least not often. You're not going to confess an undying passion for Thomas, are you?"

That made me giggle nervously "No. He's yours. All I want is George." I felt a fool as I said it. I was treating Lisa as if I were facing a job interview, not a chat with a friend.

"In that case I'm not likely to argue. But what's the problem? It's a bit early for pre-wedding nerves, isn't it?"

"It's something like that..." I started to say "...but I'm not having doubts about getting married, or George ... it's me!"

"So what about you?" asked Lisa "Have you got a dark secret and an urge to confess all?"

I couldn't stop myself giggling again "No! It's just... I want to look good on my wedding day..." my voice trailed off. There was a lump in my throat. I just couldn't say what I wanted to say.

I was almost crying. Lisa put down her tea, moved beside me and hugged. That was it. I burst into tears and sobbed on Lisa's shoulder. We stayed like that for some time. Then Harold walked in, saw me crying and he too hugged me silently. I turned from Lisa, threw myself at Harold and curled up on his lap, still crying.

Harold kissed me on the head. He wriggled a handkerchief out of his pocket and dried my face.

"Hello, Candice," he said in a normal voice "It's nice to see you again. But what's all this about?"

I sniffed. "Hello Harold. I'm sorry to blub all over you two. I just want to look beautiful when I get married."

Harold paused before asking, "What do you mean, Candice? In what sense do you want to look beautiful?"

I looked at him, then at Lisa. I suddenly realised that I hadn't given them a clue, but had just cried. They must be really puzzled.

I blurted it all out in a rush...

"What I want is to look the best I possibly can. I want to look beautiful, like Jane or like Frances when they are dressed up. Even just for my wedding day I want to look stunning. I know Lisa's dress will be great, that Frances and Sandra will do their best with the material they have to work with but they'll be covering up my appearance. My hair is rough..."

I grabbed a hank and pulled at it.

"...my face is blotchy, apart from my breasts I'm too skinny and bony, my skin doesn't feel smooth and my legs are hairy. On top of that I wear glasses. The only assets I have are normal sized breasts and good teeth. Oh - and I'm told I have a great personality. Even that sounds as if there's an unspoken 'but she doesn't look much'. I want to look as if it isn't just my personality George will be marrying me for. I want other men to be jealous of him on Valentine's Day at least."

I stopped and looked at the others wanting a reaction and hoping, hoping that they could help.

Harold asked a question. I just didn't understand. It seemed so pointless. Harold repeated it.

"Candice! What do you eat for breakfast?"

"What!" I spluttered.

"What do you eat for breakfast?" Harold asked for the third time.

"A slice of toast and a cup of black tea," I replied, puzzled.

"And what do you have for lunch?" Lisa asked. She at least had realised what Harold was getting at.

"I don't usually have lunch. I'm too busy and anyway hospital food isn't great" I answered.

"Evening meal?" asked Lisa.

"I don't know. Depends on when my shift ends. Sometimes a fry-up, often takeaway food. Occasionally George cooks me something simple."

"What about training nights?" asked Harold.

"Then it's almost always a takeaway meal. What's this about? I'm fit! I have to be! I've a demanding job and I play for the Vixens. What's the point of these questions?"

Harold answered for himself and Lisa "The point, Candice, is that your diet is rubbish. You cannot be good-looking when you are not eating properly. Not only is your diet completely unbalanced but there just isn't enough of it. You are starving yourself and what you do eat isn't any good for you."

Lisa added, "Until your diet is reasonable, your hair, face, skin, and general condition are suffering. You are underweight. Therefore you are skinny and bony. Let's see your fingernails."

Lisa grabbed my hands and looked closely at the nails.

"Look, Candice - see those white marks; the ridges? They scream 'poor diet' and show it has been poor for months. Same with your hair. It shows that your diet was poor when that part of your hair was growing."

Harold chipped in. "I'm sorry, Candice. We should have noticed this before you came to us. Someone would have had a word with George and got him to do something. Still now we know. How long have you been living like this?"

"About four years, I think" I replied.

"Four years!" exploded Lisa "I'm surprised you aren't a patient in your own hospital! You've got to change NOW!"

"Is it really that bad?" I asked.

"Yes!" said Harold emphatically. "If you don't change it won't just be your appearance that suffers - you as a nurse should know better. You'll be no use to George, to the Vixens, or to the hospital unless you put your diet right soon."

"We'll start now," said Lisa "The meal should be ready and you are going to eat it, followed by some fruit. Then we'll sort out an emergency plan until you get professional help."

"Professional help? What sort of help?" I asked.

"You must have a dietician on the staff at the hospital. You need advice from them, as soon as you can get it. In the meantime, you need a good meal now, and a different breakfast tomorrow morning. Then we'll see."

Lisa walked off into the kitchenette to serve the meal.

"Are you sure, Harold?" I asked diffidently "Are you sure that changing my diet will help?"

"Changing your diet is essential. Whether it will help or not is not the point, at least not at first. Once you have settled on a reasonable eating plan then many of your problems about your appearance may be solved. At least you will feel much better in yourself. Do you feel tired, often?"

"All the time. Sometimes it's an effort to get up in the morning and I'm not as enthusiastic about love-making as I used to be..."

Harold blushed. I reached up a hand and stroked his cheek.

"Sorry, Harold. I know you're embarrassed about such things. You shouldn't be. At one time I thought you wanted me..."

"I did. I still do. But I can't bring myself to make the first step, and now you have George..." Harold stopped speaking. He had to. I'd covered his mouth with mine. I kissed him slowly and passionately. His hands flapped protestingly as my arms clasped round his head. I loved Harold. For him the admission he'd just made was as great as another's undying declaration. At one time I'd thought we could have been more than friends but...

"Hey you two! Break it up! Dinner is served!" Lisa shouted from the doorway. "What is an engaged woman doing kissing Harold so effectively?" she laughed.

"He's just told me that he wanted me..." I started to say.

"I've known that for years. I'm surprised you hadn't grabbed him before." replied Lisa "Aren't you a bit late now?"

"Yes." I said "If I'd known..."

"But Harold didn't say or do anything, and now you've got someone else. Harold, you really ought to learn to speak out. Unless you do, you'll never have anyone for yourself. I'm sure George will lend Candice to you from time to time but it's not the same, is it?" said Lisa. "Come on. It's time to start feeding Candice up so she can be a proper armful."

As we passed her, Lisa grabbed Harold and kissed him quickly.

"She's not the only girl around, you know."

Harold protested "But you've got Thomas!"

"And she's got George! That didn't stop her, did it?" said Lisa, kissing him again. I tapped her on the shoulder. "My turn again, Lisa." I kissed Harold again.

"Come on! I don't want the dinner getting cold," Lisa said. "Some day, Harold, we'll have to have a friends' meeting about what to do with you and your mother fixation. You're too good a man to waste."

Harold started to protest but I put my hand on his mouth.

"She's only teasing you, Harold. In time things will work out." I took my hand away and kissed him, lightly this time. "Thank you for being a friend, and for at last admitting that you wanted me. Even if it's too late, it's very flattering for a girl who thinks she looks a mess."

Harold surprised me. He kissed me. He'd never kissed me before. Oh, I'd kissed him but that isn't the same!

"Harold!" I said when he'd finished "Thank you! That's the first time ever that you've kissed me, rather than me kissing you. I like it. Perhaps we can practise some more after dinner?"

Harold blushed again. We hugged him.

During dinner we discussed neutral subjects such as the progress of the two football clubs, the recent events in Silverbridge, and so on. Afterwards we sat down on the settee with coffee.

"I'm bloated!" I exclaimed, "Do I have to eat so much?"

"That's because your stomach has shrunk. You haven't been giving it enough to work on." replied Lisa. "You ate less than Harold or me and we weren't pigging ourselves. You need to eat that sort of amount every evening and much more than you have been for breakfast and lunch. You'll soon get used to it."

Harold said "How long do you think it will take to get to see the dietician, Candice?"

"I don't know. Perhaps a week."

"What are we going to do until then?" he asked, "You've got to get started now."

"She could come here every evening for a meal," said Lisa "That would give her one good meal a day. George could come too."

"Lisa! I couldn't do that" I protested.

"Oh yes you could!" said Harold and Lisa together. Then they laughed.

Lisa went on "I cook a proper meal for Thomas anyway. It's not that much trouble to double the quantities. We need to get you into a routine fast. How will George take it?"

It was much later before I saw the implication that I was GOING to come anyway. When she wants to be Lisa is a devious as she's forceful. "I should be able to talk him round. I'm not seeing much of him at the moment. He's trying to clear up as much work as possible before he goes on a residential Management Course. He's worried about it because it lasts nearly three months and he'll only be back every fourth weekend and at Christmas."

"But that's nearly right up to your wedding date!" said Lisa "How are you going to cope with the arrangements?"

Harold cleared his throat "Well, I AM the best man".

Lisa relaxed "If you are organising it then there should be no problems." She turned to me "How will you cope without George for so long? Won't it be a strain?"

"George has told me to use Harold for everything!" I winked. "Everything! And Harold has agreed. I don't think they quite knew what they were agreeing to!"

Lisa laughed out loud. Harold blushed bright red as the implication of my emphasis sunk in. "I'm sure George didn't mean that!"

"Of course he did!" I said "And now you've admitted that you've wanted me for some time, there shouldn't be a problem, should there?"

By this time Harold was turning beetroot colour. Lisa hugged him and said "If she gets TOO demanding, you can always visit Thomas and me for a refuge. Although she might be here for meals."

At that point we heard Thomas coming up the stairs. "Here Candice," said Lisa pushing Harold towards me "You can practise while I get Thomas his meal." She went out of the room and we heard her greet Thomas and meal making noises.

"Well?" I said, "Shall we have a practice?"

I was enjoying myself. Harold is one of the nicest men I know, but so repressed. A kiss and cuddle with him would be great for my bruised ego. He needed practice with girls. And hadn't he kissed me all by himself not long ago? I'd have to be careful though. Whatever I did I couldn't bear to hurt Harold. He was too good a friend!

I sat on Harold's lap "Or do you want to wait until I've improved my diet? I might be irresistible then, particularly if I shave my legs." I kissed Harold carefully, then said seriously "Do you honestly think it will make much difference?"

"To your skin, hair and nails - Yes it will. To your overall health, again yes. Hairy legs can be dealt with very easily, I understand, but I didn't think your legs were that hairy anyway."

"They are," I said, pulling up my skirt "Look!"

"You are wearing tights. I can't see much evidence of hairy legs through them."

"That's soon sorted" I raised my backside and slid the pantyhose down. I kicked off my shoes and made a real production of removing the tights. Harold seemed fascinated. Finally I stripped them off my toes and pushed my leg into his face.

"Well, Harold, what do you think?"

Harold looked closely. He couldn't do anything else. The leg was about ten inches from his face.

"I think that you've got a lovely leg. The hair is so fine and because you are a natural blonde it's just like a faint fuzz. I think the leg is great just as it is. However, I must admit that I'm not an expert on legs. You need someone with more experience - Thomas perhaps?"

Just then Lisa and Thomas came in.

"What sort of practice is that?" asked Lisa.

I lowered my leg. "I just wanted Harold's opinion on my hairy legs. But he suggested that your Thomas is probably a more experienced judge."

"He is, aren't you Thomas?" said Lisa "But can I trust him?"

"Of course you can," replied Thomas "At least while you are here. Move over, Harold, let the expert have an inspection." He knelt down in front of me, picked up a leg and looked at it closely. Then he sat back on his heels and pronounced.

"That is NOT a hairy leg. Hairy legs are obvious. That is a leg with baby fluff on it. It's rather attractive as it is. If I were you, Candice, I'd leave the hair alone. I think that if you started to shave or wax your legs the hairs would get thicker and you'd have to keep on removing them. That's my opinion." He stood up. "You might want to ask Frances, but I'm sure she'd agree with me."

"Thank you, Thomas. And thank you, Harold. Although I'll take Thomas' advice and ask Frances it is reassuring that you two don't think my legs are hairy..."

"What does George think?" interrupted Harold.

"He thinks I'm wonderful," I giggled "He doesn't criticise any part of me. He just loves me."

"Typical!" snorted Thomas, "Once one of you Vixens gets your hands on a man, all his faculties vanish. Perhaps you are witches in your spare time?" Lisa and I jumped on him and tickled him.

"Stop! Enough! I'll take it back. You are all marvellous!" Thomas yelled as he was tickled all over. We gradually stopped and I kissed him.

Harold asked "Candice, if George thinks you are wonderful, why are you so worried about your appearance? It's what he believes that is important, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. But he's infatuated with me. I want to be the best I can for him and I'm sure that I can look better than I do now."

"OK. I can understand that. It's really your own self-esteem that's taken a knock, isn't it? Why?" asked Harold.