by P R Ellis
‘Having this room instead of the honeymoon suite.’
Melody’s face clouded, ‘I thought we weren’t bringing that up again.’
‘Sindy commented that it was a shame that Valerie hogged it,’ Gerald said. Jasmine thought he was trying to pass the buck and not renew an old argument.
‘Yes, well Sindy, you might think it would have been gracious of her but that was the least of her rudeness.’
‘Oh dear, what else did Valerie say.’ Jasmine tried not to look too eager to hear gossip.
‘Oh, he tried to throw us out of the group a couple of years ago after we became a couple. He said the Belles wasn’t a place for transsexuals to meet men to get laid.’
‘That was rude,’ Jasmine didn’t have to feign shock, ‘I’m surprised you stayed.’
‘We did discuss leaving, but, well, we both like dressing up as brides and we like the rest of the crowd, most of the time. Petula’s a fusspot, Donna’s secretive about the money, and Emma is dim, isn’t she Gerald.’
Gerald appeared not to have been listening, ‘What, Emma? Is she? I wouldn’t know.’
‘Here’s the remover,’ Melody handed the bottle to Jasmine.
‘Thanks, I’ll bring it back.’
‘Oh, no hurry. Wait till after the ceremony. We’d better be getting ready.’
Jasmine retreated towards the door with Melody bustling along behind her. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘That’s alright. See you soon.’ Melody closed the door behind her. Perhaps they’ve got time for another quick romp, Jasmine thought, smiling to herself. But time was moving on and she had to get turned into a bride. She hurried back to her room.
13
Jasmine stepped out of the lift near the entrance to the Kennet Bar. A few ladies, dressed for an outing in tweed skirts and jackets, passed by and stared. Why would they be surprised to see a bride when there were five others taking part in the ceremony? Of course, all the other Belles were tucked away in the Pang Wing. They wouldn’t have been observed by the rest of the hotel guests – not yet. Jasmine blushed. She never liked being the centre of attention because of her appearance and she was certainly feeling as if she was on show now.
The alterations that Wendy Carter had made to the white lace dress had made it cling to the curves of the upper half of her body, curves that she had not known she had. It covered but accentuated her bust, filled out with her silicone enhancers, and was tight but not uncomfortable around her waist and hips. The pleats made the skirt flare out and exaggerate her figure. She had to admit that the dress added to her femininity. Nevertheless, the addition of the white stockings, shoes and the fascinator which completed the bridal outfit gave her the feeling of being a fraud. Who on earth would want to marry her at this stage in her transition? She was glad that Viv wasn’t around to see her as she thought he would find the costume ridiculous. It was just a huge charade, and she couldn’t understand what the other Belles got from the experience.
She was conscious, too, of the sore patch on her lip. She felt that it was glowing like a traffic light. Extra foundation had covered it up but now her lip felt caked in the stuff. What if the other Belles noticed and deduced that she was having electrolysis? That would compromise her tale of merely being a cross-dresser. Jasmine sighed. There was nothing more she could do about it but hope that the inflammation subsided quickly.
She hurried, as fast as her high heels could take her, to the Pang Wing. She passed through the double doors into a wide corridor and immediately heard voices and laughter on her right. The door to the seminar room was half open and she pushed it wide. Although she knew what was happening nothing had prepared her for the shock of seeing a room full of brides in variations of head to toe white. Well, not quite all white.
Her eyes could not help but be drawn to Flamboyancé. Her sleeveless dress was like a ballet dancer’s tutu, which exposed her legs almost up to the groin. Her legs were covered in sheer white tights with ragged, red stripes running down them. The dress too was spotted with red. At first Jasmine thought the red splotches were roses but as she looked closely she saw they were in the shape of bloody vaginas.
Flamboyancé noticed Jasmine’s stare. ‘Sindy, you look gorgeous. What do you think?’ She twirled, revealing her ruffle-covered bottom beneath the almost horizontal pleats of the skirt.
‘It’s, um, breath-taking.’ Jasmine searched for suitable adjectives. ‘What are the red marks?’
‘My dress symbolises the loss of virginity that marriage licences and encourages; the tearing of the hymen of the innocent bride on her wedding night.’
‘But that comes after the wedding ceremony, doesn’t it?’ Jasmine said.
Flamboyancé waved her arms dismissing Jasmine’s objection. ‘A mere detail’.
Petula approached, wearing a full length, long sleeved, satin gown with a train. She wore a head-dress with a veil that was currently pushed up to reveal her heavily made-up face. ‘Valerie would never have allowed it,’ she said, looking down her nose at Flamboyancé. ‘Quite disgusting.’
‘But Valerie isn’t here is she,’ Flamboyancé said and flounced off. Jasmine pondered, how did Flamboyancé know that Valerie Vokins wouldn’t be at the ceremony to disallow her outfit? Or was she just saying that to annoy Petula who had stepped in as leader?
‘Where is your bouquet?’ Petula said.
Jasmine realised that she was speaking to her. ‘My what?’
‘Your bouquet. Every bride carries one.’ Petula pointed around the room. Jasmine noticed that a couple of the brides were holding bunches of flowers and there were others resting on the tables that had been pushed against the walls of the room.
‘I didn’t know. I haven’t got one,’ Jasmine said.
‘Really!’ Petula said, ‘I am beginning to wonder if you had any contact at all with Valerie. You seem to have no idea what this ceremony involves. Are you sure that Valerie allowed you to join us?’
Jasmine felt herself blushing again. Tom and Belinda really hadn’t given her all the background information she needed to step into this role, but she couldn’t blame them completely. She hadn’t given a thought to the detailed plans a true bride would make for her wedding.
‘I’m sorry. It was all rather a rush,’ she said trying to sound as contrite and apologetic as she could.
‘Stop berating the poor girl, Petula,’ Donna said appearing at Jasmine’s side. She was in a silk taffeta dress that looked very much like a lampshade. ‘You look lovely, Sindy, and you don’t need a bouquet. Come on Petula, it’s gone eleven, we’re all here, let’s open the champagne and make a start.’
‘Hmph. Yes, well alright. It is about time. Where’s Gerald? He has to pull the cork. I’m not risking getting champagne down my dress. Ah, here he is.’
Jasmine turned to see Gerald step through the doorway. He was in grey morning dress, holding a top hat and white gloves.
‘Good morning ladies,’ he said, ‘You all look extremely fine.’
‘And we’re ready for some champagne,’ a voice called out. Jasmine recognised Samantha’s voice and picked her out standing at the far end of the room by the windows. She was wearing a sleeveless dress that left her shoulders bare and clung to her slim, straight figure. The hem of the dress brushed her ankles but there was a slit up to her waist that revealed her stocking tops and suspenders. She appeared to not be wearing any knickers and Jasmine wondered what was holding her male genitalia out of sight as well as preventing an anomalous bulge at the front of her dress.
Standing at Samantha’s side, Tammy looked at her, raised eyebrows hidden behind the curls of her afro wig. ‘Are you sure you’re ready for booze again?’ Tammy said. Jasmine noticed that Tammy was dressed far more conservatively than her room-mate. Her dress had a halter-neck top that left her arms bare but covered her breasts. The silky fabric fell in folds to the floor concealing Tammy’s lack of figure.
‘Of course she’s ready,’ Flamboyancé called, ‘Come on Gerry, get a
move on.’
Gerald strode to the table where there were tall champagne glasses and a large ice bucket containing three bottles. He drew out one of the bottles and stripped off the foil and wire binding the cork.
‘Careful, now Gerald,’ Petula cautioned, ‘Don’t shake it and don’t point it at us. We don’t want a shower of champagne, do we.’
Gerald gripped the bottom of the bottle and twisted the cork. ‘Don’t worry, Petula. I’ve had plenty of practice.’ He released the cork. There was a “pop” and the cork arced across the room. Gerald scooped up a glass and caught the froth oozing from the bottle. Jasmine joined the brides, other than Petula, in cheering. Gerald turned to the table and carefully poured the fizzing wine into seven glasses. The brides all crowded around to grab a glass.
‘Now girls,’ Petula said, standing apart with her glass raised up, ‘and Gerald. We must raise our glasses in our traditional toast to the Wedding Belles and the joys of being a bride, but first I think we should pause in silence to remember our founder and leader who has been unexpectedly taken from us. Valerie Vokins.’ There was a collective mumble which may have been a half-hearted agreement with Petula, a clink of glasses and then silence. Jasmine looked around at the other four brides and Gerald holding their glasses up in response to the toast. Did any one of them look suspicious? She focussed on Petula’s solemn expression. No, there was no obvious sign of guilt.
She was about to move her visual examination on to Donna when Flamboyancé spoke up. ‘That’s long enough,’
‘It was about ten seconds,’ Donna said.
Flamboyancé turned on her. ‘Well, Petula didn’t put a time limit on it. Don’t you think the old bugger’s had long enough? She made your life miserable enough, Donna.’ Donna’s face went red even through her make up. She shook her head and moved away from Flamboyancé.
There was an uneasy pause until Gerald raised his glass and spoke. ‘To Valerie and all the Belles. May we have many more weddings.’
The group cheered again and downed their glasses. Another bottle of champagne was opened and glasses re-filled. Conversations began again. Jasmine heard Petula asked Gerald to check on Sally and the music. Gerald put his glass down and left. Donna approached Petula and whispered to her. Both brides glanced at Flamboyancé. Jasmine guessed that they were sharing grumbles about the eccentric drag queen who was chatting cheerfully to Samantha. Tammy was alone, looking out of the window at the garden. The sun was shining from a largely blue sky. Jasmine approached her.
Tammy looked around. ‘Hi, Sindy. Looks nice enough to have the photos taken outside.’
Jasmine nodded. ‘A bit cold perhaps.’
‘I think Sam and Flambo will feel it most,’ he nodded to the two brides with bare shoulders and exposed legs.’
‘What about you?’ Jasmine asked since Tammy’s arms were also bare.
Tammy chuckled. ‘Born up north I can take a bit of cold. I’ve been to the Caribbean where my Ma and Pa were born and it was much too hot.’
Jasmine nodded. Viv had said something similar to her about his trips to his father’s Jamaican homeland.
She sipped her wine. ‘What did Flamboyancé mean when she said that Vokins had put Donna through it?’
Tammy leaned close. ‘There was a story that Valerie accused Donna of dipping into the club’s funds. Donna denied it of course but she’s been very touchy ever since.’
‘Why did she carry on being Treasurer?’
‘No one else would do it.’
‘Do you think Valerie was right?’
‘I don’t know. Who knows what Valerie’s reasons were? Perhaps she was just letting Donna know that she was keeping an eye on the accounts. She couldn’t delegate.’
Samantha and Flamboyancé approached with the bottle of champagne to top up Tammy’s glass. Jasmine declined and sidled away until she was standing close to Donna. Gerald returned and Petula went to speak to him.
Jasmine spoke to Donna. ‘That’s a lovely dress, Donna. Is it new?’
A look of horror passed across Donna’s face. ‘Oh, no, I’ve had it for years. Just got it cleaned up and altered slightly, that’s all. I didn’t spend much at all.’
‘I suppose it happens to every Treasurer.’
‘What does?’
‘Having jokes made about running off with the club’s funds.’
Donna’s face clouded. ‘That was malicious gossip. Just because I made a small mistake in writing out my financial report Valerie accused me of misusing the club’s funds and let everyone else know about it. It was just a little error.’
‘So you’re not too upset about Valerie’s death?’ Jasmine knew that if it had been a murder investigation her question was tantamount to an accusation, but if Donna was innocent she wouldn’t know that Vokins’ death was not self-inflicted. She watched the plump bride carefully as she replied.
‘It’s dreadful that she killed herself but, no, I didn’t like her very much. I’m not sure that any of us did, really.’
‘But you all gather together and follow her instructions.’
‘Because we all love the dressing up and the fun of being brides for the day. Valerie made it happen so we put up with her foibles.’
‘Foibles? I’ve been told by one or other of you that she was racist, homophobic and transphobic, as well as being bad–tempered and pedantic.’
‘Yes, well that all may be true. Look, I need to powder my face. Champagne makes me blush.’ Donna moved away as Jasmine heard Petula speak loudly to Gerald.
‘Well, we can’t start without a Vicar. Where is he? Belinda said she and Valerie organised one.’
Gerald tried to calm her. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure the Reverend will be there for noon,’ he looked at his watch. ‘There’s plenty of time yet.’
Petula pushed Gerald towards the door. ‘Well, you go back out there and come back the moment the Vicar arrives.’ Gerald departed once again and Petula turned to face Jasmine.
‘I’m sure everything will go smoothly,’ Jasmine said.
Petula glared. ‘What do you know about it? This is your first time.’
‘I know and I’m amazed at how well-organised you are. There are so many arrangements.’
‘Oh, Valerie made all the arrangements. She always did. That’s the problem; she never passed on the details about what plans she had made – to me of all people, her Vice-President.’
‘She kept things to herself, did she?’ Jasmine said smiling innocently.
Petula seemed to have decided that she was a confidante. ‘To be honest, she was a nightmare to work with, but I wouldn’t let on to all the others. She never communicated or allowed anyone else to make decisions but expected me to run all her errands for her.’
‘Well, you’re the President now,’ Jasmine said.
Worry appeared on Petula’s face. ‘Yes, and I’ve got to make sure it all runs smoothly.’ She turned to glance at the door. ‘Where is Gerald? The Vicar must have arrived by now.’
Flamboyancé joined them waving an empty champagne bottle. ‘Hey, Pet, we’re out of bubbly.’
Petula turned on her. ‘Three bottles should have been enough for you.’
‘Yeah, but Pet, we’ve had to cope with the sad loss of our esteemed leader’ Flamboyancé winked to Jasmine. Petula scowled.
Jasmine looked at her glass, which was still half full. She’d had a less than one full glass out of the three bottles. Flamboyancé and Samantha must have had the bulk of it. While Petula and Flamboyancé argued, Jasmine reflected. Could Petula have killed Vokins in order to take over the running of the Wedding Belles? Could Donna have killed him because of the accusation of financial fiddling? Both motives seemed a little far-fetched but murder had been carried out for less.
The door opened and Gerald entered. ‘The Vicar’s here.’
Petula broke off her argument with Flamboyancé and clapped her hands. ‘At last. Right everyone, time to get yourselves in order. We’re about to start.’ She glanced at
the tiny, ornate silver watch on her wrist. ‘It’s five to twelve. Make sure you’re in the correct order. Don’t sit down while you’re waiting your turn unless you want to crease your dresses. Don’t forget your bouquets, those of you that have them,’ she glowered at Jasmine, ‘and remember – you are a bride about to get wed.’
‘Can we have another bottle while we wait?’ Flamboyancé moaned. ‘It’s ages before it’s my turn.’
‘No, you can’t have any more,’ Petula said, ‘There’ll be plenty to drink at the wedding breakfast. Now where is the mirror? I must check my make-up.’ Donna held up a large mirror which had been lying on a table. Petula moved Donna’s hand until she could examine her image, then pulled the veil over her face. ‘That will do,’ she said and tuned to Gerald. ‘Take my arm Gerald. Let’s go.’
There was some jostling as the pair argued about who should go through the door first, then they were gone. A few moments later Jasmine heard the distant, wall-muffled but familiar notes of the opening bars of the Bridal March.
Flamboyancé sighed, ‘God, she’s still using the same old tune, “Here comes the Bride, Isn’t it time she died.”’
‘Don’t be an idiot, Freddie,’ Donna said, ‘Petula is using the Wagner in memory of Valerie. You know she always had it as her processional.’
Flamboyancé looked sheepish, ‘Yeah, well, it’s so old hat.’
‘And the Queen of Sheba isn’t?’ Donna pressed home her attack.
‘I like it,’ Flamboyancé said glaring at Donna.
‘You wait till you hear mine,’ Tammy said.
‘And mine,’ Samantha said with a girly giggle. The music stopped and they all fell silent straining to hear what was going on but no sounds of the wedding ceremony penetrated the walls of the room.
Flamboyancé rested her bottom on the edge of a table holding up her tutu so that it didn’t get crushed. ‘This is a bore,’ she said.
‘Your turn will come,’ Tammy said.
‘At least you’re not last anymore,’ Samantha added. ‘That’s poor Sindy who will have to wait ages.’