“I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed that if either of you know any impediment.”
The echoing vowels of the grey headed bishop. The figures before him. Wow is he kidding, I ask you, who could find an impediment. Jesus the difference between people in this world. In the early struggling days of my father’s first store a customer came in near closing time after a whole day of hardly any turnover and between my mother and father tearing her to bits between them reducing the price to sell her something the woman could hardly escape she was having so many bargains pushed in her face.
“Basil, Andrew, George, Albert wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife.”
The voice resonating in all this ancient history. A child whimpering. Jesus. I love the words. Wilt thou obey, serve, love, honor, keep him in sickness and in health and forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him. Just like having a stray au pair at your mercy. His Lordship real close now. Wilt thou, Violet, Elizabeth, Alexandra, Felicia take thee, Basil, Andrew, George, Albert, to thy wedded husband, for good times and better times, for richer or millions, for healthier holidays, castles and estates. Any second now. With this ring I thee wed. And it’s curtains. With all my endless goods I thee smother. In the name of his Lordship’s forests, railroads, ranches, mines, distilleries, amen. Jesus what women won’t do to get up that fucking aisle. They’ll even sacrifice the man they love.
“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.”
The organ thundering. The choir in full voice bellowing. This moment I can’t forget for the rest of my life. It’s just too beautiful. Makes me want to cry. The new radiant Countess beaming. Coming along the aisle. Marching out on his Lordship’s arm. Whispering nodding little hellos to the smiling faces in the rows of pews.
Schultz on the aisle. Giving the pale as a ghost bridegroom the Woonsocket hi sign and then promptly tripping over an armorial emblazoned kneeling pad to stumble out of the pew altogether. Bumping into a naval suited disembarking reigning foreign sovereign. Who politely sidestepped as an immediate small commotion was triggered off among security personnel at the back of the Abbey. Binky’s face slightly blue with bottled up laughter turning to look back.
In the sunlight and blaze of cameras the newlyweds stood on the Abbey step. The bridge ecstatic and the groom stretching his neck in his collar frowning at requests from photographers to smile.
In a snug courtyard environ of St. James’s another cavalcade of cars disgorging. Schultz ducking out of his limousine, hopped up the steps to jerk thumbs at his carnation as the major domo stepped to intervene.
“Invitation sir.”
“It was destroyed. My carnation is the password.”
“Sorry sir.”
“Hey I got a right to go in there.”
“Sorry sir. Other guests are waiting. Step aside please.”
“Like hell I will.”
Schultz striding forth into the massive marble interior festooned with flowers. The gleamingly smooth staircase balustrade ahead between which guests slowly ascend. Schultz bounding up three steps at a time towards the din of voices. The blue uniformed beribboned commissionaire above on the landing. Jesus my name is going to be announced.
“Excuse me fella, you don’t mind if I just squeeze by incognito.”
“Sorry sir. I must announce you.”
“Whisper will you. Sigmund Schultz is the name.”
“I know who you are sir.”
“You do.”
“You’re Mr. Schultz, the well known impresario.”
With a gentle ushering by the elbow and friendly nod from the commissionaire, Schultz steered into the receiving line. Waiting behind a monocled Field Marshal who looked around once like I was trying to steal a decoration off his chest. Jesus but what a relief somebody at last knows who the fuck I am out of this fucking collection of big shots. No sign of his Lordship. Gloved hands held out. One lemony smile after another. The bride’s highly fuckable mother with a lorgnette, yet. And her lemony smile.
“How do you do Mr. Schultz.”
“Hi.”
“So glad you could come.”
Into the crescendo beneath this vast gold embellished ceiling. Wandering past the talkative little groups. Massive portraits around the walls. Whiffs of perfume. Clink of glass. Cutlery clonking on plates. High pitched vowels everywhere. Eyes looking down their noses. And Jesus christ right now the side view of my face is more than ever out of place. With not a single soul I can talk to. My god. Except that.
Schultz stopping stunned and transfixed. Through a gap between two naval uniforms, stood an awe inspiring tall tanned silken limbed ash blond female. Her fruity body engloved in a raw silk orange dress. Holy cow, now that is exactly what I’ve been looking for all my life.
Schultz giving his lapels a quick brush down with his fingers, straightening his shoulders and moving towards the lady. Just as four dark suited security men increased their speed and quietly closed in behind him with a tap on the shoulder.
“Sir if you wouldn’t mind coming with us.”
“Holy shit when is somebody going to leave me alone for christ’s sake.”
“Now come along quietly now please sir.”
Schultz, flanked by two broad shouldered gentlemen, was led by another and nudged from the rear by a fourth gent and guided through the babbling assembly towards a distant door in a distant wall.
“Hey come on, don’t for christ’s sake exasperate me.”
“Quietly now please sir, we must warn you. One false move and you will be shot.”
“Shot. Hey come on. This is a joke.”
“Quietly sir. No joke. This way now.”
“What, are you trying to throw me out. Look at the colour of my carnation for christ’s sake.”
“I’m afraid sir, the colour of your carnation is a deeply suspicious shade. And we would appreciate your helping us, sir, with the making of our further enquiries.”
“Enquire for christ’s sake right here, I’m not moving another fucking inch.”
The bride in white silk, her veil held under a diamond and pearl tiara, stood a mere ten paces away, her hand to lips, as Schultz, wrenching his arm free from one dark suited detective, bolted. Knocking a high ranking clergyman’s champagne splashing on his black toggery, as a security guard made a grab. Only to rip open Schultz’s tailcoat seam down the back as he spun around loose in a move practised from previous unwanted apprehensions.
“I say there, stop sir, stop.”
Schultz sailing through a group of pages and bridesmaids and across an open space on the parquet. Chased by the detective who’d taken up the rear of the proceedings and who now flung himself in a horizontal rugby tackle to hit Schultz from behind just below the knees. Both engripped bodies flying face first across the polished floor amid the oooing and ahhhing of the rapidly space making guests. Schultz’s head coming to rest face up between the feet of a tall languid pink Chantilly lace encrusted lady lifting her lorgnette and eyebrows, staring down.
“Dear me, the incredible cheek of gatecrashers these days. It does make one yearn. Doesn’t it. For previous and more decent times.”
Madam
I couldn’t
Agree with you
Fucking more
18