Sadly, Bob and Ted felt a little neglected through all these preparations, although at times Jennifer and Peter joined them to all go out together with Ruth and Karen who seemed to be the permanent partners for Ted and Bob.
Things were changing in Peter's apartment, too. The place was subtly altered and Jennifer's clothes seemed to take up all the available space.
Eventually April arrived and Peter's bachelor days were almost at an end when he drove Jennifer to Mascot airport.
"Goodbye, Jennifer."
His arms encircled her waist and the passengers had to thread their way around them.
"Don't be late for our date next week. I'll be so anxious to see you. None of that rubbish about the bride always being late." Peter ruffled her hair.
"Be careful darling," she warned in a mock serious tone. "It's only a week and I don't want you arriving on crutches." Laughing and waving she joined the other passengers. Before disappearing, she turned back toward him and blew a kiss.
"I'll be there to claim my wife," Peter thought, "But why does she have to go off a week early? Women are so mysterious."
Peter shrugged his shoulders and returned home. Ted and Bob were taking him out for a Buck's Night to celebrate his final night as a single man.
They had laughed and teased Jennifer unmercifully about the event, flaunting their ideas and reveling in her looks of distaste. Yet the wicked twinkle in their eyes boded trouble if Peter wasn't careful.
Promptly at seven, as arranged, they picked him up.
"Put this over your eyes," insisted Bob who tied the blindfold tightly about his head.
When the car stopped and someone guided him up a few steps, Peter didn't have the slightest idea where he was.
A door clanged open and his nose twitched. He could recognize that smell of spray paint and dust.
That unknown person held his arms tightly as a pair of soft lips kissed him and, as he struggled, another pair of equally soft lips kissed him. Two hands took his and guided him further into the building by what he recognized as two females as their breasts pushed against his arms.
"Where have you been?" It was Joe's voice. Whipping the blindfold off and full of mischief, Joe beamed at him.
Peter was standing in his workshop and the two females holding his arms were the two young apprentices. It was obvious they had also been the ones to kiss him.
"All your workers are here and we felt it wasn't fair to exclude your two youngest," insisted Joe, putting forward a lame excuse for two females joining a traditionally all-male occasion.
Looking around him, Peter could see that Joe had gone to a lot of trouble, arranging with the others to clear the workshop of cars and to decorate it. Big posters with 'Best Wishes, Poor Bugger, Oh, the poor girl, If only she knew what we know' hung on every wall, and every guest sported a black armband of mourning.
Down the center of the workshop, the men had organized a long trestle table laden with steaming Chinese, Thai and Indian food.
Peter was amused when he saw the compulsory Tiger Beer, and he laughed aloud at what they'd placed in the center of the table - a large cake on which someone had outlined in black icing the words 'Don't do it! You'll be sorry!'
All Peter's workers were present as well as local car salesmen and clients. Andrew and his father were there, grinning as much as the Asian clients. It was a multi-cultural evening of joy for the boss.
"Dad and I are Jennifer's spies." Andrew grinned. "Well, so she thinks!"
"The apprentices have been sworn to secrecy and they are in my care," Joe beamed. "They'll be sleeping upstairs and no-one else will be allowed up under any condition. This will be their first and last Buck's Night and an education for them, but it's the age of equality of the sexes so here they are."
Joe's voice dropped away. He was taking his position as the workshop father very seriously.
Bill Williams' great paws lifted Peter off his feet and handed him the first Tiger for the night. The jokes, as they sat around the table chomping their way through the banquet, were all at Peter's expense.
Every joke had brides or bridegrooms as the topic. Repeatedly the married men offered their advice on how to behave on the honeymoon, but Peter was sure their advice was anatomically impossible.
"Yam Seng" followed "Yam Seng" and Peter, who twirled the duck's head, made certain the beak didn't point to him.
Many Tigers later, Peter heard a commotion near the back of the workshop. Everyone around the table cheered, and Peter was convinced they knew what was about to happen. He didn't have to wait long. Andrew and Eric had pulled a tarpaulin from an ornate iron double bed and the Commander was wheeling it into view.
It didn't take Peter long to recognize the occupants of the bed - two store dummies - one wearing a red wig and the other sporting a crescent scar. They were in a most obscene pose, although a sheet artfully draped across their hips hid the actual details. A sign hung above their heads on the cast iron bed head.
'Peter. Not again. Can't I get some sleep tonight?'
The men around the table roared with laughter, and Peter's blushing embarrassment only caused them to laugh even louder. Ted thrust another beer into Peter's hand as the party got into full swing.
By Monday, Peter had recovered sufficiently to remember fragmented details.
At one stage a girl had materialized and had begun stripping, her whole attention concentrated on him. She'd dragged his face against her bare body as she writhed and contorted, encouraged by the cheers of Peter's erstwhile friends.
Peter's confusion and the fact that he had far too much to drink didn't help when she dragged him to the bed and began to undress him. God alone knows what she intended before a thumping on the shutters interrupted her performance.
"Police! Open up!" The order was brief and to the point.
Joe unlocked before pushing the shutters high.
Two police from the local station marched past him, straight to the stripper. "We're here to arrest this sex fiend, Miss. It looks as though we got here just in time to save you."
They grabbed Peter. Throwing him down on the bed, they hauled his wrists to the bed head where they handcuffed him. To the cheers of the crowd, they ignored Peter's yells of innocence but stayed on to playfully pat the stripper and accept some food with a couple of beers before leaving.
