Belles Story Bk 02 Ch 08

It is 1:00 p.m. on Wednesday the 20th of October, the day of our long awaited quadruple wedding at 2:00 p.m. in the Old Chelsea Town Hall and the four couples are assembled in the lounge for coffee.

Emily, my senior bride and wife-to-be has had her hair done in a bob to a little below her ears, with the fringe reaching her eyebrows. As usual she isn't wearing a bra but she is wearing a delicious navy blue camisole with lace bodice and a matching navy blue g-string that has me dreaming of ways in which to remove it and her black crotchless tights. Her wedding outfit is a Paris designed navy blue suit. The jacket is double breasted with two sets of gold buttons and only 5 or 6 inches of her matching skirt can be seen, the risqué hem being rather higher than mid-thigh. She has chosen a pair of strappy black stiletto shoes to complete her outfit.

Her accessories are a fetching navy beret, a platinum rope necklace, her solitaire diamond platinum engagement ring and a black box leather handbag with strap and gold clasp containing my platinum wedding ring. She looks both delicious and stylish.

I, the junior bride and wife-to-be, have my long hair down in lovely soft waves, giving it more volume. I've chosen a contrasting white outfit, a silk bra and g-string set, both bordered with lace. It may be October but it's still warm enough for an 18 year old to wear a white summer minidress by Kenancy. It has a lace bordered neckline, which at the bottom joins together to form a vertical lace panel reaching to the waist, where the end is covered by wide white sash running twice around my waist and tied, right of centre, in a bow with long tails. The skirt of the dress is A-line and features a ruffle reaching two-thirds down and rising at the centre to meet just below the sash. The sleeves are trumpet shaped and just reach my elbows.

My accessories feature an identical leather box handbag, but in white and contains Emily's platinum wedding ring, strappy heels to match Emily's but in white, my solitaire diamond platinum engagement ring and a diamond tikka attached to top of my head, where it is secured, along my centre parting to hang in a diamond cluster just below the centre of my forehead. My final touch is a white lace shawl featuring roses embroidered in red.

As we finish our coffee, the security system opens a channel of communication with the gates. It is our wedding guests from the White House. We have agreed that the senior partner of each couple will give away one of the junior partners and be both her Maid of Honour and Best Woman. Sooni has asked if she may act for me and with Emily's agreement, I have accepted her kind offer. As we leave, Sooni gives me a beautiful bouquet and I give her a costume jewellery tikka similar to my own.

On joining with our guests we, the complete membership of Chelsea Exclusives, make the 10 minute walk to the Old Chelsea Town Hall and arrive in good time to let the staff know we have arrived and take our ease for a few minutes before we are shown into the Brydon Room. Those of us getting married are conducted to the row of eight seats at the front and a lady with a clipboard joins us to confirm all the necessary details. The full fee, to include a copy of the entry in the register of marriages for each of us, had been paid when we booked the weddings. Everything settled, the Registrar and her assistant enter and the ceremony starts with a statement that the room has been duly sanctioned for the purpose of civil marriages.

The Registrar explains the solemn and legally binding nature of a civil marriage and then commences with us all following the lead given by the Registrar. We make the legal declarations required, mine is: "I do solemnly declare, that I know not of any lawful impediment why I, Isabelle Jane Keeler, may not be joined in matrimony to Pixie Hoffman."

Next come the words required for a Contract of Marriage, when my turn comes I say: "I call upon these persons, here present, to witness that I, Isabelle Jane Keeler, do take thee, Pixie Hoffman, to be my lawful wedded wife."

At the exchange of rings, each couple has chosen to make the same promises to each other: "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love and affection, wear it with happiness and pride -- now and always. Everything I am and everything I own I share with you. I promise that I will respect you as an individual, support you through difficult times, rejoice with you through happy times, be loyal to you always and, above all, love you as my wife and friend."

The Registrar says that now, apart from the signing of the register, the marriage ceremonies are complete and couples may kiss to complete their union in front of all those here present. Naturally, that is exactly what we do and as we do, our guests clap enthusiastically in applause.

As we leave the building, we are showered with bubbles blown from a small soapy water flask, just as we did when we were children playing. But bubbles leave no mess, unlike confetti which has to be cleared up afterwards. The official photographs, and lots of unofficial ones too, are taken and we all walk home to India House, where a magnificent Indian banquet has been prepared for us. Speeches follow the delicious banquet when our servants receive our thanks, a doubling of pay to mark the end of the probation and our congratulations. While the banquet is being cleared, we take coffee in the spacious hall where a small band plays a mixture of Indian and Popular music for us to dance to on the parquet floor.

After the wedding reception, being dark, two of our servants ferry the occupants of the White House safely back home using the two BMW iX3 cars, while the newly married couples enjoy nightcaps together. When the drivers have returned safely, the gates secured and the cars snug again in their locked garage and the house secured, we all retire to our bedrooms.

On the way upstairs Lali tells us that the house that will be our home while in India, is prepared, ready and waiting for us. She adds that her parents plan to put the house we stay in up for sale. With a smile and nod from Emily, I ask how much her parents will be asking for the house. She says that she will send them a text to ask on our behalf and shows us a picture of it. The house is actually a rather large mansion and, having seen the ITV series 'Beacham House' on television, we both comment on the remarkable similarities.

Emily asks about personal security officers, particularly with Fetisha's trial looming. Lali says that her mother has recommended a group of lesbian mercenaries/personal security officers led by a granddaughter of Mustapha Kunt, who was the military attaché at the Turkish Embassy in London in the 1940s. The group is currently based in Delhi and the granddaughter, Ayma, a Babylonian name, is on standby for us while in India. Emily asks if she can confirm the booking for us, expense is less important than our safety, adding a request that we be met at Indira Gandhi International airport. Our Virgin Atlantic Flight VS 302 is scheduled to arrive from Heathrow at 12:10 a.m. local time on Saturday. Lali says that she will make the arrangements.

That night, India House sounded like an Amsterdam brothel with four couples continuing their nuptial celebrations in bed, fortunately the foundations didn't give way and no windows were shattered as a result. It was remarkable for two reasons: First, that all four couples have shared a bed for quite some time so a novelty value couldn't have been in play and, secondly because all eight ladies are working prostitutes, albeit masquerading as escorts, sex had no novelty value either. Clearly, we conclude, it is the commencement of lifelong loving relationships.

On Thursday morning, we eventually rise so late that we all miss breakfast. Happily our servants were prepared for the eventuality and by the time we've enjoyed a couple of mugs of coffee, in our nightwear and robes, we are served a delicious brunch. During which we reminisce about our wedding day and the parties leading up to it. Lali's mobile announces a text arriving and after reading it, she tells us that it is from her mother and to say that Ayma Kunt has confirmed that she and her team will be at the airport to meet us on our arrival at Indira Gandhi International airport. She adds that her parents will be asking US$10 million for the house, but that her parents have a minimum acceptable price of US$6,500,000 and they will be happy to give us first refusal at that price after having lived in it for month. We are delighted and accept their kind offer of first refusal at that price. Lali says that she will let them know without delay. Everything is now arranged!

Next the conversation turns to our honeymoon and the upcoming Diwali, a five-day Festival of Lights. Emily raises the subject of our security during the festival, when we will be immersed in huge crowds and being likely to get separated, we will be vulnerable. It is a point that we haven't yet discussed. Lali says that Ayma will be well aware of the risks and no doubt already has planned for our protection during the festival. Just in case, we decide two things: 1. Our minimum requirement is for each of us to be accompanied, at all times, by an armed personal protection officer, and: 2. That we consider a more remote Diwali experience, i.e. from the balcony of a nearby building close by. I say: "Given that none of us are tall, perhaps the second option works best for us and Ayma's people can be within the house or hotel with us?"

Emily adds that as the smallest, the only things that she's likely to be able to see is armpits! We all laugh and opt for option 2. Lali undertakes to send a text to her mother so that the arrangements can be made.

The conversation turns to what we'll take with us. Piti reminds us of the wonderful opportunity of clothes shopping in Delhi, the tailors are so good that they can work from a magazine image and only need measurements in order to be able to produce an extract replica, and all within about two or three days depending on complexity of then design and the number of items. Fortunately, I have kept a copy of the extensive brochure of saree dresses & gowns available at the Sari Emporium that we visited in Southall.

Riya suggests we go with the minimum we need to last a week because good quality luggage can also be easily obtained in Delhi. Javi suggests we take sarees and saree dresses suitable for a typical British summer because it will be almost November, so the temperatures will be similar. Sooni adds that we'll be less conspicuous in Indian dress, although we will be seen as wealthy. Emily laughs, now I wish that I had a darker skin and Inika laughs: "It can be arranged!"

Emily becomes more serious and reading from the Heathrow website on her smartphone, says that for all international flights, check-in is 3 hours before the time of departure due to the enhanced security checks and covid-19 precautions. We decide to err on the side of caution and leave the house four and a half hours before the time of the flight, i.e, at 7:00 a.m. just before the traffic flow gets really bad and anyway, we'll be going against the flow of traffic so hopefully it will be easier. Nevertheless, because it's such an important occasion, we decide to leave at 6:00 a.m. We know it's way to early, but better safe than sorry and we can get breakfast in the first-class lounge.

Lali reminds us all to take our passports, visas, birth certificates, marriage certificates, etc. with us. Although same sex marriage isn't legal in India, the same sex marriages of foreign residents isn't likely to be an issue so long as we don't flaunt it.

Knowing that we can sleep in comfort during the flight, if necessary, we set about getting ourselves, our documents and our luggage ready. It doesn't take as nearly as long as we expected. By dinner time we are all ready with our saree outfits for the journey all laid out and ready. Inika has taken Emily to a beauty salon owned by an Indian and she returns looking every inch an Indian woman, with a similar skin tone to mine that will last for a week or two, then she can visit a salon in Delhi, or better still have a beautician visit the house.

Surprisingly, although we are all looking forward very much to our honeymoon, we manage to get a good few hours of sleep, rising in with plenty of time to wash, dress, have coffees and get into our four taxis with our luggage to be driven to Heathrow's Terminal 3. We arrive in good time and being a little early, we check-in relieving ourselves of our luggage, get through security, health checks without delay. A look around the shops gives us the opportunity to gather more pictures of outfits we like and where they aren't available, we take photographs of things we like with our smartphones. Then, we make for the first-class lounge to wait in comfort and enjoy our complimentary breakfast.

At gate 34, we wait with all the others heading to Delhi and are delighted to see so many saree dresses that we adore. After asking and being granted permission to take a photograph of their lovely outfit, with only one refusal, we have dramatically increased our shopping list for the tailor. First-class passengers are called first and we board the jumbo jet, being escorted upstairs to the first-class seating and lounge.

Virgin Atlantic Flight VS 302 departs London Heathrow on time at 11:10 a.m. and we are on our way. The service in first-class is second to none, and as soon as the flight attendants are allowed to move around, we are offered complimentary snacks and drinks. Champagne, or any other alcoholic drink, so early in the day seems so abnormal to us that we decide to wait till about 4 p.m. when we'll enjoy some champagne then, after the evening meal we'll settle down in the hope of being able to get a few hours of sleep. In the meantime we chat and go through all the saree dress pictures we've been gathering to find collectively we have more than enough.

The day passes quickly enough and before we know it, we are being woken to get our seat/beds up unto a position suitable for landing at Indira Gandhi International, a few minutes late at 12:14 a.m. Delhi time. I think it such a shame the rail travel can't get anywhere near the same punctuality over much smaller distances. We pass through immigration quickly using a queue specially for first class passengers, then head to the carousels hall to await our luggage which arrives much faster than expected. We've all taken the precaution of bringing a case on wheels so that we can simply guide it without much effort. We go through the green customs route and are not stopped.

On emerging into the crowded arrivals hall, there's no mistaking the sign in big bold letters displaying 'Ms Keeler & party' by a tall lady in a smart business suit with trousers rather than a skirt. I make contact with her and as we exit the roped off area, her colleagues greet us and take our luggage. We are escorted outside and each couple is helped into a black Mercedes V class with windows like an ambulance, i.e. people inside can see out but people outside cannot see in. Ayma gets in with Emily and myself and introduces herself to us adding that we were fortunate that the press didn't get their act together and missed us completely.

Ayma tell us that her staff are all around us in unmarked cars and we can hear them speaking from the hand-held radio she holds. We are clearly being looked after by professionals. As we approach neighbourhood of the house, Lali tells us we have arrived. We drive through a pair a metal gates, set into high walls that border the property, and park in a large space where a number of vehicles are already parked. When we get out and see the huge, if a little dowdy, mansion that will be our home while we are in India. It does indeed resemble 'Beacham House'. We later learn that buildings are usually bare concrete because paint would soon crack and peel in the severe conditions of the hot season.

The liveried all-female staff are standing in a line leading to the main entrance. The woman at the end of the line, furthest from the entrance, greets us with a formal namaste and introduces herself as our butler, then introduces us all to each of the staff in turn. Stepping inside the house is another world, sumptuous and palatial are the only words to describe it. Emily and I fall in love with it immediately and fervently hope that our experience of living in it will match our initial impressions. Lali explains the small windows are necessary to keep the inside of the house cooler. But for us, the temperature is comfortable because it's almost the cold season.

Servants show us to our rooms, where our luggage has already been taken, unpacked and either hung up or put into a chest of drawers. The dressing table looks as if we have already taken up residence. We enjoy a shower, washing each other everywhere and then dry each other just as thoroughly. We snuggle together in the huge four poster bed for our first night together in India. The preparations and journey have taken their toll on us and we fall asleep quickly, with me spooning Emily.