Hugo was as proud as Punch to have been asked to give her away, and positively over the moon with his kilt, which arrived on time, complete with sporran and the rest of the rigout. Lady A decided that even she would allow her hair to be done and her face and nails painted, for this very special day in the life of her chief undercover agent, and everything looked set fair for the rest of the proceedings.
When they were all suitably primped and attired, they would all go in the Rolls together to arrive as the bridal ‘mob’, rather than party, at the church of St Michael-in-the-Fields, which was actually on West Street, and should ensure that there was a good crowd to ogle the bride on her special day, as she went inside to receive her new matrimonial chains – invisible, of course.
Beauchamp had even arranged that both women be served with champagne while they were got ready, so that neither of them would be in a state of panic; mellow, rather, and relaxed enough to enjoy the occasion. He had even arranged – at great expense, although only he knew this – to have a videographer film the day for posterity and their future enjoyment.
The ceremony was to be at two o’clock, so everyone had fitted in a snack – nothing that could spoil their appearance, and had worn bibs while they ate – and the wedding party congregated in the hall of The Towers at one-thirty. Enid could not claim the bride’s prerogative of arriving late, because they were all going together, and the vicar was likely to have a heart attack, so old and frail was he, if he thought that none of the stars of the show were going to turn up.
It took longer than they had thought to load such full dresses into the back of the Rolls, and Hugo was quite out of breath when he finally took his place in the passenger seat. Beauchamp had just turned the ignition key, when Enid screeched, ‘My bouquet! I’ve left it on a table in the hall,’ and Beauchamp rushed back into the house to get it, finding the posy that Lady Amanda was to carry, abandoned carelessly beside it. Golly, that was a close one!
The car drew up outside St Michael-in-the-Fields at one-forty-five precisely. Beauchamp had driven deliberately slowly, not only to gauge the timing perfectly, but so that his fiancée in the back seat should have as long as possible to enjoy her experience of going to the church in all her finery.
The vicar was already waiting outside for them and, at this signal that there was to be a wedding this afternoon, as the bells were ringing as well, to indicate that it was not a funeral, quite a crowd had gathered to see the bride arrive.
This was most gratifying for Enid, but mortifying for Lady Amanda, who fervently hoped that none of her friends or acquaintances was lurking in its depths. She couldn’t bear the thought that she should be seen by one of them when she was dressed as a strawberry trifle. She’d never live it down.
It was even more of a kerfuffle getting the two ladies out from the back of the car than it had been getting them in. Installing them had been a job mainly of stuffing the plethora of layers into the car and getting the doors shut without trapping, and thus marking, any of them.
Getting them out was another matter entirely, as it involved straightening out said multiple layers, and straightening them into a semblance of what the designer had intended when he had drawn his sketches.
At one point, Lady A managed almost to do a somersault, and, at another, she pointed out that, somehow, she seemed to have several layers of lacy stuff tucked into her knickers but, eventually, they were ready, Beauchamp beetled off, and the other three got into the correct order to process down the aisle.
Enid beamed from behind her veil on Hugo’s arm, and Lady Amanda blushed furiously as a familiar voice called from the crowd, ‘Hey, Manda, didn’t recognise you for a moment. Nice threads.’ She couldn’t immediately put a name to the voice, but it would all come out in good time, having been passed round her whole crowd of friends, and she’d get dreadfully ragged for it.
Dammit all, it was Enid’s day, and there’d be a picture of the bridal party in next week’s Belchester and the County newspapers. But what the hell! Enid had been a staunch friend and a willing helper for years. She owed it to her.
They processed, not to the usual bridal march, but to Parry’s ‘I Was Glad’, which was such a joyous piece of music, and a little more suitable for a lady of Enid’s vintage. The choir, swelled to a full complement, as befitting the pedigree of the bridal party, sang along lustily, giving it all they had got, and Lady A swelled with pride, quite unexpectedly.
Hugo handed Enid over to Beauchamp when they reached the front of the church, the manservant gently lifting and replacing her veil to the back of her head, and Lady A took her bouquet of red roses, to hold along with her much smaller but just as beautiful posy of freesias. Both of them turned towards the vicar, and the service began.
There was a minor sensation during the ‘Do you take this …’ section, when Beauchamp’s forenames were revealed. Certainly, Lady Amanda had no clue what he had been christened and, apparently, neither did Enid or anyone else. When the vicar enunciated ‘Jean-Marie Michel’ in his frightfully English accent, not only did he receive a frightful glower from the groom, but a titter of amusement which filled the church, temporarily halting the ceremony, and both bride and groom blushed to the roots of their hair.
The church was exquisitely decorated, and candles had been lit, at Beauchamp’s special request, to create an extra-romantic mood. The vicar had just reached the point where he asked if anyone here present knew of any just cause or impediment why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, when someone at the back cleared their throat loudly and purposefully …
THE END, for now …
COCKTAIL RECIPES
BRIDESMAID COOLER
2 measures gin
1 measure lemon juice
½ measure sugar syrup
1 dash Angostura bitters
4 measures ginger ale
Add to a glass filled with ice
CRATER FACE
1½ measures madeira
1 measure bourbon
1 teaspoon crème de banana
1 teaspoon grenadine
Add to a glass ¾ -filled with broken ice
HAMMER HORROR
1 measure vodka
1 measure Kahlua
4 tablespoons vanilla ice-cream
Blend briefly and sprinkle with grated chocolate before adding straws
HEART THROB
½ measure Kahlua
½ measure whipping cream
¾ measure dark rum
Pour in layers over a spoon into a tall narrow glass
HELL FROZEN OVER
1 measure sloe gin
1 measure Canadian whisky
⅓ measure lemon juice
1 measure lemonade
Add to a glass ½-filled with broken ice and garnish with slice of kiwi fruit and a cherry.
HEN NIGHT ZIPPER-RIPPER
½ measure white rum
1 measure advocaat
¾ measure mandarin juice
¾ measure lime juice
¼ measure grenadine
Shake and strain and garnish with a slice of lime and a cherry.
INCREDIBLE COCKTAIL
1½ measures Canadian whisky
½ measure Glayva
¼ measure Punt e Mes
Shake with broken ice and serve unstrained.
JUG WOBBLER
1 measure gin
1 measure apple schnapps
1 measure dry vermouth
¼ measure Pernod
4 measures 7-Up
Serve in an ice-filled glass.
LAUGH A MINUTE
1 measure cherry brandy
1 measure vermouth rosso
½ measure amaretto
2 measures lemonade
Shake and strain over ice before adding lemonade.
LAWNMOWER
1 measure bison grass vodka (as if!)
1 teaspoon sweet sherry
3 measures lemonade
Serve in a full glass of broken ice.
>
OLD MOORHEN’S SHREDDED SPORRAN
1 measure scotch
½ measure Drambuie
½ measure Mandarine Napoleon
1 teaspoon parfait amour
2 measures pineapple juice
1 measure guava nectar
¼ measure lemon juice
1 teaspoon almond syrup
Shake briefly with crushed ice, and garnish with a slice of lemon, a cherry and straws.
VIRGIN MARY
5 measures tomato juice
½ teaspoon lemon juice
2 dashes Worcestershire sauce
4 drops Tabasco sauce
1 pinch celery salt
1 small pinch black pepper
Shake and strain, then garnish with a celery stick. (Note: this is just a Bloody Mary without the vodka, and would only have been tomato juice and Worcester sauce in the pub where Lady A ordered two.
WOLF’S LAIR
1 measure brandy
1 measure peach schnapps
½ measure Barenfang
1 measure whipping cream
Shake and strain.
HAPPY – HIC – COCKTAIL TIME!
The Belchester Chronicles
by
Andrea Frazer
For more information about Andrea Frazer
and other Accent Press titles
please visit
www.accentpress.co.uk
Old Moorhen’s Shredded Sporran
ISBN: 9781783756292
Copyright © 2013 by Andrea Frazer
This edition published by Accent Press 2014
The right of Andrea Frazer to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988
All rights reserved.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers: Accent Press Ltd, Ty Cynon House, Navigation Park, Abercynon, CF45 4SN
These stories are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Old Moorhen's Shredded Sporran: The Belchester Chronicles Book 4 Page 17
