by P R Ellis
It is meaningless parody, Jasmine thought, but actually it is a little bit how I feel. I do want to cherish myself as me, the female me, the woman I want to be. It’s a pity I’m saying this as part of this pantomime instead of in front of my friends and Viv. She became aware of Robbie reaching forward and handing something to Honey.
Honey spoke out again, ‘Belles. Let this ring be to Sindy a symbol of her participation in this wedding and let it remind her of her vow which she has made this day.’ She looked down at Jasmine, and reached forward with her left hand holding a ring. ‘Give me your hand, your left hand,’ she whispered. Jasmine held out her hand and the ring was placed on her third finger. She looked at it. It was a cheap brass ring which fitted loosely on her.
Honey straightened up and said softly, ‘Repeat after me.’ Jasmine was more prepared this time and echoed Honey’s recitation. ‘I receive this ring, as a sign of my membership of the Wedding Belles and promise to uphold the principles and rules of the club and take pleasure in enacting all aspects of a wedding.’
Honey lifted her head and proclaimed, ‘In our presence, Sindy has made her marriage vow and received a ring. I therefore proclaim her a bride and member of the Wedding Belles.’
The congregation clapped, Gerald took her hand and shook it vigorously and Robbie tugged on her shoulder making her turn towards him. He planted a kiss on her cheek then took her arm and guided her towards the other brides depositing her at the end of the line next to Flamboyancé.
‘That concludes the ceremonies,’ Honey said reading from the sheet, ‘so now we progress into the garden for the photographs.’ The opening fanfare of the Wedding March rang out from the speakers. Robbie linked arms with Petula and they slowly and majestically began to process out of the room. The other brides followed, Emma joining Donna and the others in single file. Jasmine tagged along and as she passed up the aisle Gerald and Melody fell in behind her.
They marched slowly out of the conference room and along the corridor but at the entrance to the Pang Wing instead of turning right towards the reception area, they turned left. Ahead there was an open door leading into the garden. As she stepped outside a thought struck Jasmine. Was this door kept locked? If not, it may have provided Vokins’ killer with an unseen entrance.
There was a wide semi-circle of grass surrounded by floor beds with roses and other low shrubs. Jasmine joined the other five brides in a row in the middle of the lawn. Robbie produced a camera and began snapping. Photographs were taken of all the brides together, with Honey the Vicar, then with the other “guests” including Sally who had followed them out in her wheelchair. Then the group split up and each bride in turn was photographed from various angles.
Jasmine soon became aware that despite the blue sky and bright sunlight it was late autumn, all but winter, and the cold began to penetrate the thin lace of her bodice.
‘Hurry up, Robbie,’ Flamboyancé called while hopping from one leg to the other and rubbing her bare upper arms with her crossed hands. ‘Let’s get this over with. I’m freezing here.’
Robbie lowered the camera and grinned at her. ‘Well, you decided to wear almost nothing.’
‘I’m starving,’ Samantha added, ‘Can we go in now?’ She started a general move back to the building.
Petula took charge. ‘You can take more pictures inside, Robbie. I think it is time for the Wedding Breakfast.’ She gathered up the hem of her dress and the train which had got damp from the dew on the grass and hurried to take the lead back into the wedding venue.
They processed back inside, this time as an irregular gaggle, as fast as their respective dresses and footwear would allow. When they reached the room where the ceremony had taken place the wall had been folded back extending the space into the adjacent room. A large table in the centre was laid up with trays of the buffet guarded by a couple of the hotel staff. In the centre was a large three tier wedding cake surmounted by a model bride, but no groom.
The party spread out around the table all looking at the food spread out and in particular the cake.
‘The cake!’ Donna said, ‘Where? Why?’
Petula stepped forward and faced the group. ‘I have donated the cake. It was meant to be a surprise for Valerie and for all of you.’
‘Surprising Vokins, that was a risk,’ Samantha muttered.
‘It’s magnificent,’ Donna said, having found her voice, ‘but why? Valerie usually organised all the refreshments.’
Petula drew herself up to her full height and addressed the group. ‘This is the twentieth anniversary of the first Bridal Weekend that Valerie organised. Of course there hasn’t been one every year but Valerie and I have now run fifteen. I felt it needed something special. I didn’t of course realise that we would be doing this without Valerie.’ The members of the group shuffled uncomfortably and looked down avoiding each other’s eyes.
‘How did you get it here?’ Donna asked.
Petula fluttered her hand as if dismissing the question as trivial. ‘Oh, I brought it in yesterday afternoon, while Sally was at the hospital.’
‘I thought I saw you in the car park yesterday, when we arrived,’ Melody said.
‘But we didn’t see you carting that cake through reception,’ Gerald added.
‘Ah, I came through the garden,’ Petula answered, ‘I wanted it to be a surprise. Anyway we’ll cut the cake later. Let us have the buffet first.
‘And crack a few bottles of champers,’ Samantha called.
Some joined Samantha in the rush for drinks while others made a dash for plates and started filling them with the various foods on offer which, Jasmine noted, included sausages on sticks, pineapple and cheese cubes and vol-au-vents, amongst other more modern canapés. Jasmine herself stood a little apart watching the brides and the other guests and thinking. Petula was here in time to murder Vokins and she had gained access secretly. She was certainly in the frame as lead suspect.
Soon, couples were making their way to the smaller tables arranged around the edge of the room, with laden plates and full glasses.
‘Not eating, Sindy?’
Jasmine turned to see Tammy holding a glass of effervescent wine and looking at her.
‘Oh yes, Tammy, I expect I will.’
‘You were just standing.’
‘Watching. Taking it all in I suppose.’
‘You’re feeling overwhelmed?’
‘I don’t know. I suppose having half a dozen brides in all their finery is a bit unusual, and that marriage ceremony was, um, strange . . .’ Jasmine couldn’t think of another way of putting it.
‘Oh, that was all Vokins’ idea – the service and the vows. That’s all done with now. This afternoon is just a party until we get ready for the next bash.’
‘What’s that?’
‘The Butterfly Ball, this evening, with the entertainment.’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Actually, Jasmine had given no thought to what would fill the rest of the day.
‘Let me get you a drink – champagne?’
Jasmine nodded and Tammy strode off to the table laden with bottles. Jasmine went to the buffet table and put a few items on a plate. As usual with these kinds of meals there was a surfeit of pastry and carbohydrate but a lack of fresh vegetables. She wasn’t a vegetarian but she took care with her diet as the hormones she was taking tended to make putting on fat rather easy. Tammy returned with a second glass and handed it to Jasmine. She took a sip, relishing the freshness of the taste.
‘At least Robbie and Freddie have taken Sam off my hands,’ Tammy said, filling a plate with spicy samosas and chilli sausages.
Jasmine followed Tammy to a vacant table. ‘You’re not close friends then?’
‘Not close. I’ve known her for a few years, since I joined the Belles and this isn’t the first time we’ve shared a room, but I wouldn’t call us best mates. I don’t suppose any of them are, really.’
‘So why do you belong then?’
‘I just love the dres
sing up,’ Tammy popped a mini sausage into her mouth and chewed for a moment. ‘It goes back to my sister’s wedding. I was in my teens. She looked so gorgeous and I just wanted to be like her. It took me quite a few years to accept that I could dress up as a woman and live my fantasy, and then I discovered this group and I found I could make my dream come true – well sort of.’
Jasmine nodded but still couldn’t understand the appeal of bridal dress. The desire to be a woman was a powerful urge which she felt every moment of the day but to want to repeat a unique day over and over again was not a dream she shared. She noticed the “Reverend” Honey Potts heading back to the buffet.
‘I think I’ll top up my plate,’ she said, ‘Can I get you anything, Tammy.’
‘No thanks.’
Jasmine hurried to the central table while Honey was alone.
‘Hi, Jasmine . . .’ Honey began.
‘Ssh. It’s Sindy. I’m undercover. Don’t act as if you recognise me.’
‘Oh, oh. Yes. Sindy. Ok.’
Jasmine filled her plate with random nibbles. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘I’m the entertainment.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘This evening. This Butterfly Ball thing. I’m the cabaret.’
Jasmine froze. ‘You’re not doing your strip and sex routine?’
Honey giggled. ‘No. That’s all behind me now. It’s a pure drag act now – singing, a bit of chatter, costumes.’
Jasmine sighed with relief. ‘Why did you come back to Kintbridge?’
‘It wasn’t my choice. I got the booking. Belinda, is that her name? She’s the organiser? She booked me a couple of weeks ago. I think her original act got taken ill.’
‘She doesn’t know your history?’
‘No, there’s only recent reviews of my new act on my website.’
‘Good. Let’s keep it that way. How did you come to do the wedding ceremony?’
‘Belinda said they needed someone to play the part of a Vicar. So I said, for the extra money, I’d do it. I need the cash.’
‘You weren’t here last night?’
‘No. I came down from London this morning. The train was delayed.’
Donna joined them. ‘Thank you for taking the ceremony, um . . .’ She held out her hand.
Honey put her plate down and offered her hand in return. ‘It’s Honey. Honey Potts, although my stage name is Havana Goodthyme.’
Jasmine was pleased that Donna and Honey soon got into conversation. She returned to the table to re-join Tammy with a plate filled with things she probably wouldn’t want to eat. She sat and took another sip of wine. Tammy had drained her glass and got up to get some more.
Jasmine looked around the room. At the table next to her were Petula and Sally. Emma sat alone at a table presumably awaiting Donna’s return with more food. Melody and Gerald were on the opposite side of the room chatting to each other. Near them Flamboyancé was giggling with Robbie and Samantha who was throwing champagne down her throat with gusto. Robbie stood up, holding his camera, and began to move from one table to another taking photos.
Focussing on each character in turn Jasmine considered what she knew. With the exception of Sally, who as well as being confined to a wheelchair was still at the hospital at the time of the murder, and excluding Honey, who she presumed had no previous connection with the Wedding Belles, they were all still suspects. She had no reason to rule any of them out, and little evidence to pin on each of them either.
Tammy returned with another glass of champagne for her. ‘Here you are. Drink enough of this and you’ll be in the mood for the rest of the day’s fun.’
‘Thanks, Tammy. What were these events like with Vokins here?’
Tammy laughed. ‘She was a joke really. Oh, she had the finest of wedding dresses, long blonde wigs, but she couldn’t cover the fact that she was an old bloke dressed up. Even with thick pan stick her face was masculine and she always moved like a man, and talked like one.’
‘But she ran things.’
‘Oh, yes, she ran things alright. Everything was timed to the minute, and had to be done in precisely the right way, her way.’
‘What do you think she would have said about Petula’s cake?’
Tammy shook her head. ‘You know what Sindy, I don’t understand why Petula did it. Valerie hated surprises and wouldn’t have wanted someone else’s design of cake. It was a lovely gesture of Petula’s but she must have known that she would get it in the neck from Valerie for going off on her own.’
Unless she knew that Valerie Vokins wouldn’t be here to see it, Jasmine thought.
Belinda entered the room with her wife Susan. She looked around until she found Petula and then crossed to her table. Petula got up, took Belinda’s arm and guided her to the central table. Petula clapped her hands and the gentle hub-hub of conversation died.
‘I asked Belinda and Susan to join us for the cutting of the cake,’ Petula announced, ‘and as she has to get away to complete preparations for this evening’s Ball, we’ll do the deed now. If you’d all like to gather round.’ The towering cake was moved by the hotel staff closer to the edge of the table as the party gathered round. The top tier was lifted off and placed on the table. Petula lifted the knife and held it poised to stab into the centre of the tier.
She paused. ‘I mentioned earlier that I arranged for this cake in order to celebrate the twenty years that Valerie has been organising these magnificent occasions. I had expected of course, Valerie to be here and taking her usual leading role in the proceedings. Unfortunately, she is not, and I am sure we all feel her loss.’
‘Good riddance,’ Samantha whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.
Petula ignored the interruption and continued. ‘I therefore dedicate this cake to the memory of Valerie Vokins. So, as I make the first cut let us remember all that Valerie did for the Wedding Belles, from her original inspiration to form the group to her meticulous attention to detail at every one of the events. I hope I can follow in her elegant footsteps and lead the Belles to continue our pleasure and enjoyment of all matters bridal in the future. I hope you will show your appreciation.’
Petula pressed on the handle of the knife. The surface of the icing cracked and the blade pierced the cake with ease. The brides, partners and other guests clapped. Jasmine wondered whether they were clapping the memory of Vokins, Petula’s coup in taking over the leadership or simply out of politeness. She looked around and saw that the clapping varied in conviction. Samantha wasn’t clapping at all but knocking back another glass of champagne. Donna and Emma seemed somewhat half-hearted in their effort, while Flamboyancé’s was ironic in its energy and loudness.
The applause soon died away and the crowd pressed forward eager for their portions of the cake.
‘Is that all the speeches?’ Jasmine whispered to Tammy.
Tammy snorted. ‘I hope so. In the past Valerie would drone on for several minutes telling us what a fine organisation the Belles is for upholding the traditional marriage ceremony and how wonderful we all were as brides. She didn’t mean it of course, she always thought she was the belle of the Belles. When she finished, Petula was granted her two minutes. It doesn’t look as though anyone else is keen on saying what a wonderful person Valerie was.’
Jasmine had to agree with Tammy. The members of the Belles seemed more eager for cake and drinking the remaining wine rather than continuing the custom of wedding speeches. However, when everyone had a piece of cake, Belinda tapped her glass to gather everyone’s attention.
‘I’d just like to say that like you I was shocked by Valerie’s death and that I am so relieved that the police have allowed us to continue with the weekend. I do hope that events have not marred your enjoyment of your ceremony and reception today. We look forward to seeing all the brides at the Butterfly Ball this evening and of course, tomorrow we have the real wedding of Gerald and Melody. Thank you for inviting me to this part of your celebrations and I look forw
ard to seeing you all later.’
The applause for Belinda was considerably warmer than for Petula but, once she had finished, the little groups separated back to their tables. Belinda and Susan left, taking Honey with them.
‘Hey Sally,’ Flamboyancé called. ‘Have you got any music on that laptop of yours? Let’s get this party hopping.’ Sally shook her head but didn’t answer.
‘Sally doesn’t keep such trivia on her computer,’ Petula said, ‘There will be dancing this evening I expect. You’ll have to wait till then.’
Flamboyancé made a pretence of being surprised and flopped down onto Robbie’s lap.
She planted a kiss on his cheek and said, ‘Come on then darling, we’ll just have to make love.’ Robbie pushed her off, laughing, ‘I’ll need another glass of wine first, but then we can consummate our union.’
Flamboyancé got onto her knees and crawled between Robbie’s legs. ‘As soon as you like, love.’
Jasmine noticed Emma get up from her seat and leave the room, Donna also rose but instead of following her joined the rest of the group.
‘She’s gone to lie down,’ Donna said,
‘Emma?’ Jasmine said although it was obvious who Donna meant.
‘Yes, she was tired. She didn’t sleep well last night. Suffers from insomnia you know. Usually takes a sleeping pill but she didn’t last night. She must have forgotten them which is quite strange, she’s usually meticulous with her packing.’
‘I hope she feels better this evening,’ Jasmine said wondering why Emma should have omitted to bring her sleeping tablets if she depended on them so much.
‘I hope so too. Perhaps she’ll drop off. She had a few glasses of wine.’
‘Hey,’ Samantha shouted from the drinks table. ‘There’s no wine left.’
‘I’m not surprised the way you’ve been knocking it back,’ Petula replied.
‘Well, that’s rich blaming it on me,’ Samantha retorted swaying lightly and placing a hand on the table to support herself. ‘Perhaps you didn’t order enough.’