5 Who's the Fairest of Them All?
The Rosebays watched TV carefully in order to learn who will be the last Cheryl's rival. Two days later a newsreader in the main news informed: "Today the last golden ticket of Wonka's chocolate contest was found."
"It's here," said Matt.
"The owner is a twenty-seven years old American, Dawn Fidget." Cheryl watched a charming blonde creation on TV and both her jaw and her self-confidence dropped.
"You also bought a Wonka bar, didn't you?" asked the journalists.
"No, it wasn't me," said Dawn Fidget in a jingly voice. "A friend gave it to me, she is already married, you know."
"Why to you, what do you think?"
"I'm the best one that Willy Wonka can wish," said Dawn with a shiny smile. "In all aspects."
"What is your job?"
"I'm a nurse and I work here in Chicago hospital. I love my work but I would easily replace it with something such wonderful as a chocolate factory! I love chocolate! You know, I think a person who loves chocolate can't be bad," said Dawn and answered a question beforehand. "Tell me, don't you think Willy Wonka is sweet?" she giggled.
"I'm feeling sick," said Cheryl.
"She's a goose," said Matt.
"What interests you most about Willy Wonka?"
"Three guesses what," said Amy.
Dawn poked her hair, wriggled her hips and said: "I'd like to know what he's like; you see, we know practically nothing about him but I guess he is an extremely charming man who is a pleasure to be with."
"As far as I know, you have a boyfriend," a journalist said.
"Oh yeah," admitted Dawn, "but I will give precedence to Willy Wonka of course."
Mum turned the volume down. "So there we are. You are the best of all of them, Cheryl," she tried to encourage her daughter who half lay in the armchair, hopeless. "You are young, single, clever and good; you have a charm and Wonka already knows your story." Cheryl grinned happily at the praise.
"Sure, you are an absolute number one," said Matt. "This Dawn is a dish but else dim. If Wonka doesn't think with anything else than his brain, you could succeed."
Cheryl laughed. "Nobody knows actually, I don't know him."
"Listen, dear, if he doesn't pick you, he isn't worth it anyway," said dad. "Just look at the others!"
"Imagine how Bea must feel," Amy made a face.
"You're right," agreed Cheryl and went to bed much less worried.
Day D was approaching and in five countries of the world five crowds of mummies, aunties, grannies, friends, sisters and unwanted advisers cudgelled their brains how to make the future bride as attractive as possible. Everybody agreed that marrying Wonka is an unbelievably big deal, though they almost didn't know what they were talking about. At Rosebays' there was a council and Deborah took part too. Everybody had their own idea and Cheryl's head started to ache of the disputes. Nothing like that appeared with preparing Amy's wedding.
"But this is a different case," said Amy, who, since she's apologized to Cheryl, became as active as it was her own wedding. "Here you must excel in a short time among four others. You must catch attention. You must be incomparable, charming, sweet, perfect..."
"You must be different," Deborah said concisely. "The solution will appear by itself. Let's have a look at the material we already have: Bea Grammos. She can do her best but she won't be any prettier. She's no match for you so don't worry."
"Then there's the manager, Celia," counted Cheryl.
"She will be immensely elegant so you must look..."
"... like you've just crawled out of a mow," laughed Matt.
"Silence there," said Amy. "One more word and I will throw you out of the window. Don't forget, Matt, we women are in advantage." Deborah ignored the chaff.
"Tara Norden is a sporty type," she remembered. "And Dawn."
"She worries me most of all," sighed Cheryl.
"She's as cute as a kitten, but also as dumb. She will dress rather less than more."
"If at all," cackled Matt. Amy jumped after him and tried to push him out of the room. Matt resisted.
"Kids, go fight somewhere else," snapped Cheryl.
"You don't want to listen to me," yelled Matt. "A man's opinion could be crucial for you!
"You already had a chance to speak, hombre," said Amy, pointing her fingers on him like they were colts. "Now be silent forever!" The doorbell rang suddenly. "I'll open," said Matt and hurried away. "It'll be Clarissa. She may give you some good advice," he shouted to Cheryl. Amy threw a cushion after him.
"Get rid of this shrew for me," said Matt, pulling the visitor in. "Amy! Look who's here!" It was Rick. Amy stood in surprise. "I expected you come next week," she stammered out. Rick smiled at her and suggested a walk. Amy went, completely bewildered and apparently not wanting to leave the company. Though, she knew they had things to talk about.
"Now where were we?" said Cheryl.
"Sit down and listen," Deborah began her lecture. "First, be yourself and don't pretend anything. Emphasize your grace and all your good sides. You are a librarian, so you are close to the fantasy world. What else books are?" Cheryl nodded as listening to a heavenly song. "Newspaper, that's reality, mostly. But not books. Second, it's spring now. The big day is in half of April. You must resemble a fresh spring blossom, dewy morning and a song in the wind."
"I didn't know you can write poetry," smiled Cheryl.
"Thanks. Didn't know that either," said Deborah and went on. "The rest of them, who will try to set to sexy and smart but common-place togs, are ordinary down-to-earth mortals but you will be like a miracle, like a vision, something supernatural compared to them. You'll be a bit fairy-tale-like and above all usual."
"It sounds great," dreamed Cheryl. "I will borrow a theatre costume."
At the end the theatre costume was forgotten because they found a marvellous fabric from which Cheryl had her dress sewn. The fabric was changeable; sometimes it was rather pink, sometimes rather sky-blue, semi-glossy and flowing. There was a hem of white florets along the neckline; the same florets were randomly placed on the lower part of the long skirt. It was ended with a wavy trimming, as well as short, untraditionally cut sleeves. Around her waist Cheryl put two strings of translucent beads and a silver chain; in one point all of these joined and continued in some more strings ended with crystal drops.
"It's – perfect," gasped Cheryl when she saw herself in the mirror for the first time.
"You look like a fairy," cheered Amy who came to assess the result too.
"Or like a bride," Matt hit it. "Add a veil and a bouquet... well at least you won't have to change for the wedding too much."
"Matt, this is the first time you don't talk rubbish," said Amy, viewing Cheryl with her eyes ajar. "Pity I won't be there when the others see you."