Part 3: The Glitter
The doors were opened by a cheerful soul holding a glass of red wine, obviously not her first. She was wearing an odd pink satin gown that looked like a toga a Greek nymph would wear. Her Mousey brown hair was done up with flowers. Her jewellery was all wide gold, chains bracelets, and rings.
She picked up on my necklace and as she lifted it said “My lord, is this real?”
I didn’t answer her.
Of course, they weren’t real, but a girl likes to pretend, and it would be fun if others assumed, they were, real diamonds, I mean.
Then she was distracted from her questions, as clueless Micke asked where Sarah(the hostess) was?
Laying down the end of my necklace. She pointed with her finger, a mood ring around It, told us the hostess was in the kitchen.
As we walked through we admired the house and how it was being used for the “gala.”
It was a brilliant setup!
Two main areas were being used for the party proper.
The living room and in the back sunroom. Both with TVs on to watch the show and soft music in the background to pass away the time.
A third area being used was the dining room.
It was here the food and drinks were catered, with the service convinced in having the male server acting as bartender wearing a tux and the two female servers dressed up in neatly prim brown maid outfits.
The hostess met us from the dining room /bar as we came into it.
She was a young 29 something with a cheerful demeanour and brite blue eyes
Her pixie cut blonde hair with black streaks was short but still long enough to be wavy. She was elegant in a mint green spaghetti strap gown that was made of slithering thin silk. She only wore one piece of jewellery, but it was all she needed to be wearing. A thin necklace set with a string of matched white diamonds. The gems bursting with rippling fire all along her throat. Very real and very breath-taking.
After the introductions, she had begun telling us about what all was planned when the doorbell rang
We watched the enticing show her gown put on as she swished through the front living room to answer it
She opened the door.
Outside there was a uniformed police Constable at the door.
We saw him pointing to the road and then to the parked cars. He asked Sarah a few more questions, then with a tip of his cap, turned away and left.
She watched him a few seconds then closed the doors and come thoughtfully came fluttering back to us
She had a wicked smile on her lips as she explained
“Apparently a neighbour reported a car with two blokes driving slowly up and down the road. I told him they were probably looking for the party. He said none of the cars here matched the descriptions of the silver car reported. Probably going to the park, or dropped someone here off I said to him didn’t I, no guys here. He reluctantly agreed and then cautioned me on having my guests behave, as the neighbours are already jittery. I said toodles, and that should be the end of it. Now about the party...”
She stopped looking dead at my necklace, she lifted my necklace.
“My she said, those are pretty, they almost look real. But aren’t.... right?
I shook my head to affirm that they were not. I was smiling inside. My mum was also asked that a lot when she wore them out for a night of it.
Sarah showed us around and told us about the planned games and contests.
As we looked around we realized there were no male guests, just young ladies, and a few 18-year-old girls.
About 30 strong and ready to party.
The pre-show was still half an hour away so we did what most girls in our circle did back then, before the distractions of cell phones, that is.
We did meet and greet, catching up with old friends, making new ones, we started to admire each other’s clothes and jewellery.
I had four more ladies during the meet and greet bold enough to ask if the set of jewellery I wore was real.
Despite feeling In the mood to liven things up, about myself, I still admitted no, they were rhinestones.
I think one of them thought I was telling a fib.
Micke meanwhile was up to her tricks hustling up to the young male bartender, putting the allure of her eyes(and a shiny blouse )to good use, and getting him to agree with using the mixer she had brought in her drinks only. She didn’t actually promise him a date in return, merely implied.
My brother once commented that “hard butter could melt in Micke’s mouth “
Ginny had smirked and said...
“Brilliant pun that, Mickey Mouse/Micke’s mouth.”
So Micke, her mouth, and her pretty attire aside...
Pretty much everyone in attendance was dressed and dolled up to the nines as they say. Fancy dresses, formal skirts with extravagant blouses, and a slew of pre-worm bridesmaids’ gowns.
Only a few could be called out for not being with the theme...
Jumpers over silk tops were not cricket and thus those that dared come dressed like that were gently teased as copouts (these were not by any means poor girls and could afford a used gown, or had ample opportunity to borrow someone’s nice frock) and so offers of gowns and fancy dresses were extended to them for the next year.
The jewellery worn by everyone there without a miss was brilliant, both in style and sparkle. Running about 75 to 25, hard to spot imitation to undoubtedly real. And there were no slackers in that area.
Even the ones wearing jumpers were displaying, whole heartily, the bling!
The snacks and more drinks were served so we ate and drank our way through most of the pre-show.
It was starting to get dark outside as we started to assemble in the sunroom that spanned almost the whole backside of the house.
As we did, the front doorbell rings...
Bloody constables Sarah swore softly as she swished her way to the door. Her luxurious thin mint green gown once again doing that amazing bit of liquid like fluttering.
She looked out the peephole then back at those of us watching from our seats. She opened a door and looked out and round the other door.
We saw her hesitate, then step out and look around some more before she came back in and closed the door turning to look at us with a shrug?
Those of us still watching were treated to the sparkling of the amazing diamonds draped along her throat.
“No one was there?”
Sarah said in with a touch of curiosity as she rejoined us.
Someone suggested she call the constabulary office. But she mixed that suggestion, bravely saying that no prankster was worth that type of bother.
The awards proper was starting so we began watching the awards show.
Sarah had planned games to play during the boring bits
The first game was truth or fiction
We each got out in front of everyone, standing on a makeshift stage in the sunroom, and picking a piece of our jewelry to give a history. Fake or real for the piece. everyone had to write their guess down with the winner the one who received the most fools
We also wrote on our guess whether the piece of jewelry was real or imitation. This from a distance was not an easy guess on some of the jewelry shown.
The winner of the game received a prize of a bottle of wine.
Votes were also marked down after everyone had a turn on who they thought told the best story.
As the winner was handed her winnings the doorbell rang again, silencing us
The hostess quickly went to the door, this time with a group of followers including Ginny and Myself. Our clueless cousin Micke, was again over with the male bartender.
The hostess Sarah
looked out the peephole, then opened one of the doors, leaning out. As before, no one was around.
Apparently, someone was playing their own games on us.
Now a bit apprehensive, Sarah swished into the dining room up to Micke and her tame bartender.
In a gesture I’m sure some women cringe over, our hostess asked the male server if he could answer any more “ red herring “doorbell ringing, he agreed as Micke helped ‘persuade him.’
He was a pretty buff specimen and held a quite cocky air about himself.
Putting the petty incident aside, we went on with the party.
The second game played by most of us was a version of ‘Ring of Fire’.
I found that the first card in both of the rounds we played was coincidentally the same, the jack of diamonds.
A card which my brother had always teased me was well known as the thieves calling card. I never knew if he was telling a fib or not, but after the night was over, I had to admit it did appear to have been a nudging warning.
We ended after two rounds when some of the big awards were being announced.
We gathered around the TV sets and watch some more of the glitz and glamour.
As I looked around at our crowd with our glitz and glamour, I thought a few of us were looking fine enough to give anyone attending the show in person a run for her money, or jewellery.
After that was over we all played a drinking game, 21.
This then pretty much assured that every one of us was feeling no pain what so ever.
It was a fast paste time of it and by 10 o’clock no one was really watching the show anymore, and we were a great group of cheerful revellers, acting like we were the winners of everything.
At 10:15 the front doorbell rang yet again.
Someone turned the music off and all was silent as 30 pairs of eyes watched our buff male server confidently weaved through the crowd of quite dolled up figures to the front door