Story Proper begins
This story is true and is really pretty much told as it happened.
What we did may sound daft, but read and understand the circumstances, plus realize we all were pretty well lit up with the drink.
I will plead guilty at having enhanced certain aspects of the story.
For indeed, the truth can be stranger than fiction… and coincidences occur, both sweet and bitter….. as I’m sure someone once said.
So here goes it….
My twin sister and our friend “Ginny” were invited to join a school chums bridal party. The groom didn’t have enough to go around so my sister’s boyfriend “Brian” and I was pressed, not unwillingly, into service.
As I stated earlier, the wedding and reception were both over the top posh. So much so that our opinions, and subsequent escapades, were still coming up amongst us as a topic of conversation at our local haunt The ‘Poet and the Peasant Pub’, kept by Brian’s Auntie and Uncle...
The Wedding proper was held at the local Cathedral. A rather decadent place built with a hearty clash of gothic/ medieval styles; with black stone towers, Lancet arches, and fly away buttresses.
Inside one finds white marble columns, oak pews blackened with age, intricate woodwork and ghostly while statues. All lit with hanging diamond shaped antique glass lights and colourful lead glass stained windows depicting a horde of medieval era religious scenes.
I twas a fine backdrop for the rather glamorously attired guests in attendance. The wedding ceremony itself would have been an interesting tale in and of itself, but that telling will await another day, for mine has its’ beginnings at the Reception.
The Reception was held in the basement, a grand place with an opulent ballroom, well-stocked bar room and elegant dining area. The subterranean basement was decorated richly along the same grand lines as the interior of the ancient Cathedral above.
We were some time at the reception when my Ginny , who had been held up on her way back from the loo by a snobbish dowager feeling the need to criticise someone, regained her seat by plopping down with a loud woosh.
That was a chore, being picked apart by that “lovely !” creature. she exclaimed cynically, whilst adjusting her loose brooch. We all just smirked. I had received the same treatment from the lecturing prig earlier that evening.
Well, to be honest, my twin sister and Brian just actually were smirking at that. I believe my attention at the time was rather more occupied on the area where Ginny’s Brooch lay, which was the proper cause of my smirk! (naughty me)
Finished, Ginny than leaned against my sister, and, still reeling from being inappropriately chided, made a snide comment about the flimsy clasps on the shimmering jewelry they were wearing. My Sister, touching her necklace, told her, “ no worries, luv, no one would nick them anyways, they are only rhinestones”. Except my ring isn’t, said Ginny looking down at the ruby ring she was wearing on her pinky. My sister, thinking a minute, retorted “Then one never knows… “, It looked like she was going to add something to that, but at that point the band restarted, and we joined the swarm of fancy dress gowns, silky dresses, suits and tuxes worn by the chic guests as they herded to the dance floor.
As we headed off, I was still perplexed about what had been going on in Sis’s head that made her come out with that reply, and I swear she had stolen a look at me while saying it. But as I had watched her pull at an earring to emphasize how loose the sparkling jewel was, a seed was planted in my head about a subject I myself had always found rather intriguing, pickpocketing jewelry!