Binding Devotion

by Kiki Archer

  Zara chose to focus on Stella instead. “Please be quick, Stella. You know who Phoenix is, don’t you?” She smiled in earnest. “One quick photo and then if you’d move on to the Champagne and canapés area. We have so many VIPs still to come and we don’t want this area getting cluttered up.”

  Andi shook her head. “Don’t listen to her, Stella. You’re my VIP. You can do as much cluttering as you like.”

  Stella watched as Zara shimmied up the red carpet with open arms, encasing Phoenix like a long lost friend. She shook her head and turned to Andi, posing for the camera and speaking in between flashes and smiles. “So I’m your VIP, am I? I’ve not been ditched in favour of Pippa?”

  Andi laughed. “She’s giving you a good run for your money, I’ll tell you that!”

  “Ooo, I want to hear more. Is she here yet? I’ll go and join her.”

  Andi shook her head. “No, but Janet and Elizabeth are.”

  “Alone?”

  “Yes, Janet’s still single, and Elizabeth thought it best not to bring her husband. She worried he wouldn’t feel comfortable.”

  Stella frowned. “Because of the lesbians?”

  Andi laughed. “No! Because of the clientele ... I think.” She paused for a moment. “I hope.”

  “Andi, please hurry up!” Zara was hissing from the other end of the red carpet, straining her eyes, completely unable to move her brow after her latest bout of Botox. “A photo with Phoenix is the absolute priority right now!”

  Andi gave Stella a kiss on the cheek and whispered into her ear. “You’d forget it’s my thirtieth, wouldn’t you?”

  Stella hugged her again. “Oh bless you, Andi. You really are a Saint.”

  Andi smiled. “I don’t know about that. You haven’t heard what went on in the chutes yesterday.”

  “Andi Armstrong!” teased Stella, “I knew I saw a spar-”

  “ANDI!” Zara waltzed over and grabbed her by the arm. “Excuse me, Stella. I need my wife. We have some very important VIP celebrities here tonight, please move along.”

  Stella made a saluting gesture and winked at Andi. “Good for you. Tell me all about it later.”

  Andi hadn’t heard; she was too busy being manoeuvred into position and blinded by the continuous lights of the flash.

  ****

  Melody leaned forwards and spoke through the small round holes in the clear screen that was separating the front and back section of the taxi. “Can’t you find another route?” She glanced around at the stationary traffic, exasperated by the delay. “We CANNOT be late!”

  “Love…” the voice was gruff and unconcerned, “The Grandez is on this road.”

  Melody tried again. “Isn’t there a back way in?”

  The overweight driver shrugged his shoulders and scratched his overgrown stubble. “Isn’t it fashionable to be late?”

  Melody shouted back. “No, not when it’s Andi Armstrong’s thirtieth birthday party, it isn’t!”

  The taxi driver shifted in his seat and looked properly into his rear view mirror for the first time that journey. “That pretty blonde lesbian lady who’s always on the television?”

  “Yes, but she’s not just a lesbian lady, she’s a political activist who’s making a huge amount of difference to society!”

  “I’m just interested in the lesbian bit, love.”

  “Just drive would you?” Melody sat back in her seat, next to Jayney, her selected partner in crime.

  The driver stared through his mirror, admiring their posh frocks and cleavage. “So, how long have you two lovely ladies been together?” He scratched his stubble once more. “I must say, I’ve noticed lesbians getting sexier over the years.”

  Melody shook her head. “Just drive, or I’ll report you.”

  “Sexier, but still bloody feisty!” He returned his eyes to the road and the red brake lights ahead. “Moody bloody lesbians,” he muttered under his breath.

  Melody leaned forwards, about to erupt, but Jayney grabbed her arm and urged her to stop.

  “Calm down. It’s not worth it. I’m nervous enough as it is,” said Jayney, looking out of the window, just able to see the impressive lights of The Grandez in the distance. “I’m still not sure about this whole thing.”

  Melody frowned at her. “What whole thing? You’re my plus one to a party. That’s all.”

  “Won’t you feel sorry for Andi?”

  Melody twisted her body and took Jayney’s hand. “Hey, this isn’t about Andi. I admire Andi for what she does,” she paused, “and from what I’ve seen she’s a truly lovely lady.”

  “You’re shagging her wife,” whispered Jayney under her breath.

  “And so were you,” came the muted reply. Melody exhaled. “Look, I just want to see Zara get what’s coming to her. We’re going to put the frighteners on her, that’s all.”

  “And the file?”

  Melody reached for the brown file sitting on the seat next to her. She picked it up and held it close to her chest. “You leave the file to me.”

  ****

  Zara pulled her poker straight hair over her left shoulder and glanced at the bustling room. “I’ll go and tell the band to pause after this song. If we get the speeches out of the way then we can start to mingle.”

  Andi took her eyes away from the doors and looked at her wife. “Relax, this is meant to be a party. My party.”

  “It’s important to network. We’ve got a better haul of celebs this year than we’ve ever had.”

  “Oh Zara, I just want to have a few drinks with my friends.” She glanced back down the red runway carpet.

  Zara curled her lip. “Who are you waiting for?”

  “No one,” she said. “Fine, go and tell the band.”

  Zara nodded and strolled through the crowd, towards the front of the stage, pausing every so often to place her hand on someone’s shoulder and bow in admiration. Andi watched her and shook her head. She had known what to expect, she just had to take a deep breath and get through the evening. With that thought in mind, she turned, one final time, to the entrance; what she saw sent excited flutters of delight bouncing across her chest. Pippa Rose was striding down the red carpet in a sensational emerald green evening gown, embellished with sequins on the bodice and taffeta ripples on the skirt. She looked incredible.

  “Happy birthday, Andi. I’m sorry I’m late.”

  Andi didn’t look at the clock. Her eyes were fixed on Pippa. “I can’t take my eyes off you. You look incredible!” She reached out and touched a brown ringlet that was deliberately hanging loose from the up-do. “Your hair’s gorgeous.”

  Pippa grinned. “You’ll make me blush!” She glanced down at her own chest. “Not too much? I always worry about going strapless with these boobs.”

  Andi looked down and smiled. “All appears fine to me.”

  “It’s true what they say then,” grinned Pippa.

  “What?”

  “Flirty thirty!” She smiled. “I noticed it yesterday at the pool.”

  Andi laughed. “Yes, I think I’ll embrace flirting now that I’m too old for it to be taken seriously.”

  “Stop it! You’re only just beginning!”

  Andi took Pippa’s hand. “Seriously, yesterday was amazing. I had so much fun. We should do something like that again.”

  “Already booked,” smiled Pippa. “We’re going to ‘Go Ape’ on the second Sunday in December.”

  “Are we?” Andi liked the authority. “What’s ‘Go Ape’?”

  “You said you wanted to broaden your horizons on the fun level, so I took you seriously. Each month I’m going to take you on a fun expedition.”

  Andi laughed. “Oh Pippa, you’re brilliant.”

  “We’ll be swinging from the tree tops and zip wiring to the ground in Trent Park.”

  “Ha! That’s so funny!” She paused. “Can you really see Elizabeth doing that though?”

  Pippa reddened. “Oh, I just booked it for me and you.”

  The pause in
response was significant enough for them both to feel uncomfortable.

  “It’s fine,” they said at the same time.

  “I’ll book them in,” continued Pippa.

  “No, I was going to say it’s fine. It will be nice for us to go alone.”

  Pippa looked at Andi, sensing a connection; a shared buzz of excitement. “If you’re sure?”

  “Positive,” smiled Andi, continuing to look into Pippa’s eyes. “Thank you for coming.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. Traffic’s a nightmare, so I guess I’m the last one to tell you how truly beautiful you look this evening.”

  Andi smiled with slight sadness. “In fact, Pippa, you’re the first.” She paused. “Well the first who’s actually meant it anyway. You know what this lot are like, lots of air kisses and false praise.”

  Pippa grinned. “I know you said you weren’t looking forward to tonight, but there’s being a cynic and there’s being a cynic! I’m sure Janet and Elizabeth must have complimented your aura of beauty?”

  “Elizabeth said she liked my shoes.”

  Pippa’s eyes followed the flow of Andi’s sparkling silver dress. “You can’t even see your shoes!”

  Andi laughed. “Listen to me, being all dramatic. No, everyone’s been lovely. Janet and Stella in particular. They’re at the bar. Let me take you over. Stella would love to get to know you better. Plus my friend Ruth is here.” She smiled. “Ruth Allen, the one I told you about. Smart, single, sexy. Very, very, funny.”

  “What will she want to talk to me for then?” laughed Pippa.

  Andi heard the loud tap on the microphone and stared towards the stage. “Oh bugger. It’s that time already.” She caught the eye of a waiter doing the rounds with the glasses of Champagne. “Tell me if I’m a cynic after the speeches,” she said, reaching for a tall flute and quickly sipping the bubbles.

  Pippa took a chilled flute and stretched it out towards Andi. “To you.” She chinked the glasses together. “Thank you for everything you do, for everyone like me. Happy birthday, Andi.”

  Andi stared at her intently. “Oh Pippa, if only my wife could make a speech like that.”

  Pippa looked at the stage and smiled. Zara was in her element. Shushing the crowd and acting coy at the whistles. “She’s a bit ‘stop it, stop it … no, don’t stop it,’ isn’t she?”

  Andi was about to reply when the photographer tapped her on the shoulder. “I don’t have one of the two of you,” he said, stepping backwards with his camera and signalling them together.

  Andi swapped the tall glass into her left hand and reached around Pippa’s waist with her right. Pippa put her left arm across Andi’s shoulder, feeling her warm skin and pulling her closer.

  “Smile.”

  They both squeezed.

  “And there she is!” came Zara’s booming voice over the microphone. “My wife the superstar. Still being papped!”

  The crowd turned to the back of the room and laughed. The champagne had been flowing and there was a general feeling of excitement at being invited to something so prestigious.

  Zara put her hand on her hip and pretended to squint. “Or is that her PA trying to get into her knickers?”

  The crowd gasped with giggles.

  “She won’t have me,” shouted Andi from the back of the room, condoning the banter.

  The crowd relaxed and laughed.

  “I would,” whispered Pippa, watching Andi stroll away towards the stage.

  Zara signalled for her wife to jump up and join her so she could begin the speech. “Dirty thirty!” she joked, watching Andi place her flute down on the table next to the stage. “My wife really is as angelic as she appears.” She rubbed her hands together. “Here’s hoping that changes!”

  The titters turned into rapturous applause as Andi walked up onto the stage and took a gentle bow.

  “Happy birthday to you…” the impromptu singing was loud and heartfelt and Andi didn’t quite know where to look. “…Happy birthday dear Andi, happy birthday to you!” The burst of applause and cheers of hip, hip, hooray were thunderous. Andi bowed again.

  “When my wife’s stopped bowing, I’ll begin,” shouted Zara above the noise. The room slowly quietened down and Zara took the microphone out of its stand. “Thank you all for coming. I know the pull of free Champagne, food, and top class entertainment is too hard to ignore!”

  A few people tittered.

  “Seriously, thank you for coming to celebrate my wife’s birthday.” There was another cheer. “She’s one of a kind, and I’m lucky to have her.” A general ahhh sound cascaded around the room. “I am. I can be a grumpy old woman sometimes, but Andi puts up with me.” Zara paused and looked at her wife. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, sweetie.”

  Andi felt a lump building in her throat.

  Zara continued. “For those of you who were here last year, you’ll remember that the female stripper didn’t go down too well.”

  A shout of: ‘She did!’ came from the back of the room.

  Zara laughed. “She didn’t, and I may not be the most natural of wives, but I do learn from my mistakes, so this year, Andi, I just want to say, I love you. You’re great. Happy birthday.”

  The room erupted into cheers as Zara handed the microphone over to her wife.

  “That’s it?” laughed Andi, in complete shock.

  Zara nodded and made her way off the stage. “Over to you, sweetie.”

  Andi looked at the crowd in surprise. “My wife never fails to astonish me, but at least it’s for the right reasons this time.” She smiled. “And I was quite looking forward to seeing that stripper again, now that I’m all dirty at thirty.” Andi let the laughter die down. “So, wow, where do I start? What a year! You’re here tonight because you’ve supported me and my work … or, like Zara said, you just came for the free booze and entertainment!”

  “Never!” came a shout.

  “Seriously, I just want to say thank you. The battle for equal rights is almost won…” Andi noticed a slight distraction on the faces in the crowd, “…All of you are playing your part in some form or another…” There were a couple of titters from people at the front and the people at the back were craning their necks. “…Even if it’s just holding the hand of your boyfriend or girlfriend, husband or wife, when walking down the street…” Andi scanned the people in the crowd. Most were now laughing. “…It’s not meant to be funny. I mean it. We are all equal and we are all-” Andi felt the hands on her waist and spun around. To her horror she recognised the scantily clad body of Patty the Pudge. The 60-year-old exotic dancer who had found fame on this year’s Britain’s Got Talent television show for her high tempo shimmying, overly chubby thighs, and lack of appropriate dance gear. Patty the Pudge was standing in her union jack bikini, clicking her fingers.

  Andi shook her head, returning the microphone to the stand and turning to leave the stage.

  “Oh no you don’t!” shouted Patty grabbing her hand. “This one’s a dance for two!” The Austin Powers theme tune music started to play and Patty began to circle around Andi, walking with a wiggle and making a swimming motion with her arms.

  Andi still wasn’t smiling.

  The music was loud and the famous trumpet section was about to begin. Patty the Pudge dropped into the splits, right on cue, and rolled onto her stomach, bouncing her bottom up and down in time with the trumpets. The crowd burst into applause and laughter.

  Andi looked at the wobbling flesh cavorting around on the floor, and was unable to maintain her straight face.

  “She’s smiling!” shouted Patty, rolling onto her side and hauling herself up in a rather unladylike manner. “She’s smiling! Let’s hear it for Andi Armstrong!”

  The crowd cheered and started to chant Andi’s name.

  “Follow me,” said Patty, talking Andi’s hands in her own and pulling her in close. Patty the Pudge let go and immediately shimmied up and down Andi’s body, bumping and grinding and s
panking her own behind.

  “Andi, Andi, Andi.” The chants got louder and louder.

  Andi didn’t know what to do. This was far worse than last year. At least last year she got to sit on a chair. She scanned her memory, quickly trying to think of a basic dance move. She opted for something she’d seen in a Pulp Fiction movie, holding her nose with one hand and using the other to pretend she was submerging into the water. She bent her knees and wiggled up and down.

  The laughs got louder.

  Andi’s embarrassment was mortifying, but she had to carry on. She thought back to the film and made two Vs with her fingers, pulling them in front of her eyes.

  Patty the Pudge grabbed Andi’s hands and pulled them onto her chubby chest. Smothering them into her tiny bikini top. She held Andi’s waist and started to spin.

  Andi was so overcome by the crowd’s howls of laughter, the feeling of clammy skin, and the dizziness from the spin, that she failed to notice who it was, standing by her discarded glass of Champagne, discreetly dropping in a sachet of Seroquel.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Andi walked from the stage, trying to maintain her composure. She was sweating, her dress was twisted, and her hair was a mess. Patty the Pudge really had done a number on her. She reached for her discarded glass of Champagne and took a huge swig, trying not to choke as another person slapped her on the back and told her what a great sport she was. She drained the flute and looked for a waiter. Her only option now, was to drink away the embarrassment.

  “Here, have mine,” said Zara with a smirk.

  Andi snatched the glass of Champagne and started to drink.

  “You can’t tell me that wasn’t brilliant entertainment?”

  Andi looked at her wife with dismay. “Yes, at my expense!”

  “Oh chill out, sweetie. Everyone loves Patty the Pudge.” She looked back at the stage. “We’ve got those two Greek guys doing that funny dancing later on. The band will be playing all evening. The Champagne’s flowing. The celebs are here.” She reached out for Andi’s waist. “What’s not to love?”

  “Oh Zara, you really haven’t got a clue, have you?”