by P R Ellis
‘Oh, weren’t you here? I thought that you as her deputy would have been the first to be informed.’
‘Vice-President. That’s what I am, was,’ Petula said, ‘Valerie was President of the Belles. I wasn’t here when she was discovered.’
‘Oh …’ Jasmine hinted at the question rather than seeming to press Petula for an answer.
‘Sally had an appointment at the hospital this afternoon so we didn’t get here till gone five. We arrived to find police everywhere.’
Sally’s thin voice came from below. ‘We had to wait an hour before they let us into our room.’
‘It was very inconvenient,’ Petula added.
‘I’m sure it was after that time at the hospital. Did you have to remain with your wife while she was having her treatment?’ Jasmine asked. She watched Petula carefully, looking for a reaction.
‘Well, I couldn’t be with her while she was being examined but I was there for her. I always am.’ Petula reached down to give Sally’s hand an affectionate squeeze. Jasmine wondered whether it was to ensure her agreement.
‘Richard looks after me well,’ Sally said. Jasmine noted the use of Petula’s male name.
Petula took hold of the wheelchair’s handles. ‘And I must see that Sally gets her rest.’
‘Of course,’ Jasmine said stepping out of the path of the vehicle, ‘What happens tomorrow? I didn’t get a programme.’
‘If you had registered at the correct time, Valerie would have sent you the full programme for the weekend. She liked to organise things down to the minute. It was all arranged weeks ago, including the genuine wedding on Sunday.’
Jasmine felt that she had to appear innocent and apologetic. ‘I’m sorry, but because I was late Miss Vokins did not have time to post a programme to me.’
Petula shook her head. ‘Highly irregular. I don’t understand what Valerie was doing.’ She started pushing Sally towards the Pang Wing. ‘But I suppose you have paid the full fee so since you’re here you had better join in. Do you actually have a wedding dress?’
‘Of course. I’ve been longing to wear it,’ Jasmine replied, not entirely truthfully.
‘We’ll meet at breakfast and I’ll give you the timings then.’
‘Surely I don’t need to wear my dress for breakfast?’
‘Not at all. We all get ready for the ceremony after we’ve eaten. Now we must go.’
‘What time shall I meet you?’
Petula called back over her shoulder, ‘Eight. I’ll be in the dining room at eight.’
Jasmine was pleased to have got a definite time out of Petula. ‘Thank you. Sleep well, and you, Sally.’ A frail hand was lifted in a wave as the wheelchair was pushed through the doors towards the lift.
Jasmine watched them disappear and wondered. Petula had shown no apparent sadness at Vokins’ death and in fact had seemed somewhat aggrieved at being left out of the loop a little. Petula would definitely require further investigation. Jasmine spun round and headed back into the cacophony that was the ballroom. Perhaps she could find some more of the Belles before the night ended.
She gulped the remainder of the white wine and placed the glass on a dining table that she passed, heading into the melee of dancers. She gave her body to the thrumming beat of the dance music and was soon jigging in time with the other dancers. Well, most of them. Some seemed to lack even the most primitive sense of rhythm or perhaps it was arthritic joints that prevented them keeping time. There was no way of knowing which of the dancers were Belles and which were simply Butterflies attending the main convention, but Jasmine kept a look out for Belinda who she hoped might point out another of her suspects. She found Belinda bellowing into the ear of the DJ crouched on the edge of the stage. The DJ nodded and straightened up. Belinda turned to face the dance floor and Jasmine took the opportunity to approach her.
Belinda smiled and mouthed a greeting but did not attempt a conversation. Jasmine danced up close and put her lips to Belinda’s wig where it covered her ear.
‘Can you show me more Belles?’ Jasmine roared. She stepped back to see Belinda’s response. She looked confused then nodded and beckoned Jasmine to follow. They moved through the mass of dancers, squeezing around couples and groups dancing in a cluster. They reached the edge of the dance floor as a number finished. Jasmine saw a pair of “women”, one tall and one short, holding hands and moving away from the dancers. Belinda hurried after them with Jasmine following. In the relative quiet of the slow and softer introduction to the next dance hit, Belinda called out, ‘Melody! Geraldine!’
The two women turned, saw Belinda, smiled and then gazed curiously at Jasmine.
‘This is Sindy,’ Belinda continued, ‘She’s just arrived but she doesn’t know anyone.’
‘You’re with the Wedding Belles?’ The taller of the two women asked.
‘That’s right,’ Jasmine replied.
‘She’s a late addition, Geraldine,’ Belinda explained.
‘Oh, pleased to meet you,’ the shorter woman, Melody, said. ‘We’re going to cool off in the bar. Do you want to come too?’
‘’Yes, please,’ Jasmine said. She lifted a hand to her ear to suggest that she was finding the music loud. The four of them moved to the exit. Belinda peeled off and went to speak to the receptionist while Jasmine followed Melody and Geraldine into the bar in the Kennet Wing. The room was almost as packed as the dance floor was but while there a hub-bub of chatter at least it was possible to hear each other speak.
When they reached the bar, Geraldine turned to Jasmine. ‘Can I get you a drink?’
‘Thank you, a white wine spritzer please.’
‘A white wine spritzer, and two G&Ts, plenty of ice,’ Geraldine said loudly to the barman who had come to take her order. She turned her head to speak to Jasmine. ‘We need the ice to cool down after being in that oven.’ Jasmine nodded and while the drinks were being prepared she looked at Melody and Geraldine standing side by side at the bar.
Geraldine was several centimetres taller than Jasmine, slim and wearing a dark blue, sleeveless lace dress that clung to her breasts and midriff. The hem was just above her knee revealing long legs cased in black nylon stockings or tights. Jasmine suspected the former. Her arms up to her elbows were covered in gloves of similar sheer material but her upper arms were bare. Her hair, no doubt a wig, was more red than brown and cascaded over her shoulders.
Melody was dressed in rather more matronly fashion. She was shorter than Jasmine and plump but hid her figure in a voluminous multi-coloured maxi dress with full sleeves. Her hair was shorter, straight and dark but not quite black. Jasmine reckoned it was her own.
Melody turned away from the bar with an ice-filled tumbler and Geraldine also rotated with a matching glass in one hand and a tall fizzing tumbler in the other. Jasmine took her drink and gave her thanks. Geraldine led them on a search for somewhere to sit, eventually finding an empty low table with two chairs in a far corner.
‘Sit down, please,’ Geraldine said, moving to another occupied table where there was a spare chair. Jasmine and Melody sat down beside each other as Geraldine returned with the chair for herself. Jasmine sipped her drink, grateful for the chill fizz more than the alcohol.
Geraldine took a mouthful of her G&T, then put her glass down. ‘It’s quite a while since we had a new member of the Belles. Valerie didn’t mention you in the programme.’ She looked at Melody for confirmation. Melody nodded.
She was going to have to explain her presence to everyone, Jasmine realised, thanks to Valerie Vokins’ efficiency.
‘I was a late addition,’ Jasmine explained, ‘Valerie only fitted me in yesterday.’
‘Oh, you were lucky,’ Melody said, looking faintly shocked, ‘I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone else find Valerie so helpful in altering arrangements.’
‘But I did hear that your wedding is part of the programme. That’s not normal is it,’ Jasmine deflected the conversation back on Melody.
Melody sm
iled and took hold of Geraldine’s hand. ‘You’re right. Valerie took a lot of persuading but Geraldine did it in the end. We invited the Belles to be our bridesmaids if they wished. Valerie finally had to agree that was an opportunity that few of the girls would miss.’
‘Even then he ummed and aahed,’ Geraldine grumbled in a deep voice, ‘saying that our wedding was disturbing the routine that members had come to expect from this event.’
Melody piped up, ‘To be honest I think most people are glad of a change. Everyone, or rather everyone other than Valerie, has been absolutely wonderful.’
‘Nevertheless, Valerie’s death must have put a shadow over things,’ Jasmine suggested. Melody frowned while Geraldine snorted, ‘I suppose you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead but it will be a merrier occasion without the old grouse.’
Melody gave her fiancé a playful shove on the shoulder. ‘Let’s try and remember Valerie for all her work for the Belles not how she was.’ Geraldine gave a reluctant nod as Melody turned to Jasmine. ‘You’ll be at our wedding won’t you Sindy. As a Belle you are invited.’
‘Yes. Thank you,’ Jasmine replied, ‘I know I won’t be a bridesmaid but I have a smart suit.’
‘Well, that’s fine,’ Geraldine said, recovering her smile, ‘It will be useful to have some congregation there to see both of us brides make an entrance with our bridesmaids.’ Jasmine had an image of two white-dressed brides jostling down the aisle with their attendants behind them.
‘Tell us about yourself, Sindy,’ Melody said reaching for her glass. ‘We don’t know anything about you at all.’
‘Um,’ Jasmine took another slug of wine and soda while composing her reply.
‘Well, who is this gorgeous creature, you’ve found, you love birds?’
The loud but slurred voice with the Irish accent made Jasmine turn her head and she found a figure looming over her. She had a wig of brown hair that cascaded over her shoulders with highlights that matched the lemon yellow of her lace dress. The capped-sleeve dress clung to her prominent breasts and slim but waistless body, ending at mid-thigh. Her legs were cased in sparkly sheer stockings and she wore an impossibly high pair of black patent leather, platform stiletto shoes. Possibly it was the shoes but more probably it was the alcohol that caused her to sway unsteadily while desperately trying to avoid spilling the sparkling wine from the glass she held.
‘Hello, Samantha,’ Geraldine said with a note of resignation in her voice. ‘Do you think you had better sit down? Here, have my chair.’ She started to rise.’
‘No thank you, Geraldine,’ Samantha had difficulty pronouncing the name, ‘I want to sit next to this delightful person.’
Geraldine continued to stand up. ‘Alright, I’ll find you a chair.’ She went in search of another vacant and moveable seat.
‘This is Sindy,’ Melody said. Samantha put her spare hand on the arm of Jasmine’s chair and leaned down.
‘How do you do, Sindy?’ She wavered like seaweed in the tide, ‘I don’t seem to have a spare hand to shake with you.’
‘That’s alright, Samantha.’ Jasmine was sifting through her memory of names and facts about members of the Wedding Belles. She came up with Samantha Nolan, cross-dresser recently separated. There was also something about a brief exchange with Valerie Vokins. ‘You’re one of the Wedding Belles?’ she went on.
Samantha’s head hovered over Jasmine, wobbling as if it was attached to her neck by a spring. Her words came out in a drunken garble. ‘That’s right. Are you? I don’t think we’ve met before.’
Here I go again, Jasmine thought. ‘It’s my first time. Valerie fitted me in. I wanted to thank her but now she’s dead.’
Samantha swayed. ‘Miserable old goat. Do you know what the old fart did? He let it out to my wife that I dressed. She walked out on me.’
‘Was it deliberate? Perhaps Valerie-Vernon didn’t know that your wife was unaware that you were a cross-dresser.’
‘Oh, the bugger knew what he was doing alright. He wanted me out of the Belles but I showed him.’
‘Really? How.’
‘By coming here of course. He couldn’t refuse my booking. I’m making the most of this weekend now that I don’t have to hide. But I’ll be skint once she’s taken me to the cleaners.’
‘She?’
‘My wife.’
Geraldine appeared behind Samantha carrying a chair. She placed it on the floor carefully behind her legs. ‘You can sit down now Samantha.’
Samantha swayed and wine slopped from her glass.
‘Careful!’ Geraldine said, as the drops of wine fell onto the carpet.
Samantha’s knees bent and she slumped into the chair. She recovered and bent towards Jasmine. ‘That’s better. Now we can have a lovely girly chat can’t we.’
Geraldine returned to her seat and took Melody’s hand.
Geraldine called across the table. ‘Give the girl a chance, Samantha. She’s only just arrived and she hasn’t been before.’
Jasmine wanted to interrogate Samantha some more about her relationship with Valerie Vokins but wondered whether the cross-dresser was in the mood for questions. She seemed more determined on flirting.
‘That’s a lovely dress. I like sequins,’ Samantha said, reaching out a hand to touch the shoulder of Jasmine’s dress. Her face was so close that Jasmine could see through the wig and the thick make-up. Samantha was considerably older than her slim figure, high, pert breasts and young woman’s dress suggested. Mid-fifties perhaps? Trying to live the youthful female life she’d never had?
‘Are you dressing more now that you are separated from your wife?’ Jasmine asked as innocently as possible.
‘I’ll say,’ Samantha replied, giggling. ‘Every chance I get. And I’m buying clothes. Spend it before she gets her hands on it, I say. I’ve got a sexy new wedding dress for tomorrow you’ll see. Now why haven’t I caught up with you, you gorgeous young thing, before.’
‘I haven’t been to one of these events before,’ Jasmine answered truthfully.
‘Where do you live, darling?’
‘Hastings.’
‘Don’t you go up to the clubs in London? I’m sure I would have seen you there.’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘You must. We’d have so much fun. Let’s get another drink. I want to spend more of Jill’s divorce money.’ Samantha lurched unsteadily onto her platforms. Jasmine realised her own glass was empty.
‘Don’t you think you’ve had enough, Samantha?’ Jasmine said.
Geraldine chipped in, ‘Yes, Samantha, you’re drunk enough already.’
Melody warned, ‘You’ve got to be fit to show off your new dress tomorrow.’
Samantha wobbled towards the bar. ‘I’m going to get another drink and I’ll get you one too, Sindy.’
Jasmine got up and took Samantha’s arm to support her. She called over her shoulder to Geraldine and Melody, ‘I’ll look after her.’
Geraldine and Melody were also rising from their chairs. ‘Thank you, Sindy,’ Melody said, ‘We’re off to bed. See you in the morning.’
Jasmine escorted Samantha through the crowd to the bar. There they stood next to a tall, thin, coloured woman with a massive afro-style hair-do and a very short white dress.
‘Ha!’ Samantha shouted, ‘My room-mate. Hi there, Tammy!’
Tammy’s expression did not show delight at seeing Samantha. ‘Oh, hello, Samantha. Sloshed again, I see.’ Her sober male voice reminded Jasmine of Viv with his Caribbean lilt.
‘This is Sindy,’ Samantha slurred, ‘she’s new. Isn’t she gorgeous and young?’
Tammy looked Jasmine up and down, examining her obvious wig, her colourful but relatively thinly made-up face compared to most of the other “women”, and her figure. After a pause she held out a dark hand with pale blue nails.
‘Pleased to meet you Sindy. You’re not a Belle are you?’
‘Yes, she is,’ Samantha said before Jasmine could reply, ‘Vokins fitted her in l
ate. What do you think of that?’
Tammy’s eyes widened. ‘The conniving old bigot.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Jasmine said.
‘Because he is, or was,’ Tammy said. ‘He put me off for weeks before he gave me the last bed available, so he said; sharing with Samantha. Filling the spaces became more important than keeping the gathering racially pure.’
‘Are you saying Vokins was a racist?’ Jasmine said.
‘Was he ever,’ Samantha butted it, ‘One reason he didn’t like me was because I’m Irish, but at least I’ve got a white skin.’
‘He only ever let me join the Wedding Belles, because he needed to cover the costs,’ Tammy said. ‘He could only have let you join late because you’re white and young and a cross-dresser. That’s right isn’t it? You’re not TS?’
Jasmine shook her head, denying the truth. ‘Didn’t Valerie like transsexuals either?’
‘No. He thought they were different to the rest of us,’ Tammy said.
‘But isn’t Melody a trans-woman?’ Jasmine hoped she wasn’t showing too much knowledge, but thought that having met the woman she might be expected to know the truth about her.
‘Ah, but she wasn’t when she joined,’ Samantha said, swaying as if on the deck of a yacht, ‘but he didn’t like it when she had the chop and she shacked up with Geraldine.’
Tammy explained, ‘But there was no way he could get rid of her as he was such a stickler for procedure. The rules of the Wedding Belles include all shades of transgender.’
‘That’s enough about the old sod. Let’s drink to his departure.’ Samantha leaned over the bar and called for the barman.
‘Haven’t you had enough Sam,’ Tammy said, ’You’ve been drinking since before I got here.’
Samantha turned to face Tammy, lolling against the bar, ‘I started long before then and I don’t propose to stop until the weekend is over.’ Her knees gave way and she subsided slowly to the floor leaning against the bar.
Tammy reacted, crouching down to catch Samantha’s head before she slumped to the floor. ‘Oh, Oh. That’s the answer we needed. You have had enough, Samantha. Time for bed I think.’
