One

“Call us Bob and Greta” said the happy young couple sitting before me.

I was wondering where the camera was hidden. Greta was gorgeous with long black hair and a perfect face, her body oozed sexuality as she sat sensuously in the chair of my office, one hand on the knee of her all too handsome, reputed husband to be. When they had finished their pitch I sat quietly listening to the sounds of my office: the whirring fan blowing warm air, the tip tapping quietly on the keys of our secretary’s computer.

I picked up the phone and dialled Kathy’s number. Kathy was my business partner, no more no less. A very pretty, vivacious thirty year old with short dark hair. Incriminating evidence my wife’s eyes. Emma was very, very suspicious of Kathy

“Are you busy, Kathy” I asked “I need your advice on something”

Kathy bustled in. I introduced her to Greta and Bob.

“How may I help?” asked Kathy looking at me suspiciously.

“Greta and Bob have some special requirements for their special day”

I watched Kathy carefully as the couple told it all again.

“Well” started Greta “as we told your colleague we are both committed naturists”

Kathy didn’t show any flicker of emotion, nothing at all

“And so are our parents, and many of our friends and family” continued Bob

“So we want to have a naturist wedding” gushed Greta

There was no denying it; Kathy was a class act. She calmly wrote notes on a pad while the whole play was made. I scanned the room, where were the cameras? Greta had a large bag, perhaps there was one in there?

“Are you thinking of a naked reception or the service as well?” asked Kathy coolly.

“Oh the whole thing” replied Bob brightly

“Mm” said Kathy. She sucked on the end of her pencil as she pondered the problem.

“A venue may be tricky” she said after a while, “and I doubt that we could find a church or a vicar”

“Oh we’ve got a vicar,” said Greta helpfully “he’s a member of our club”

“Club?” queried Kathy

“Yes, as we told Peter, there is a vicar, who is member of our Naturist Club and he’ll be happy to perform the ceremony”

“I see” said Kathy serenely. We all paused while she wrote something on her pad. I snuck a look. The page was covered in intricate doodles. Despite appearing to write copious notes there were only four words on her pad

‘Are they for real?’ She saw me looking and caught my eye. I gave a small shrug and returned to Bob and Greta

“Perhaps a marquee at your naturist club” I suggested helpfully. “We could get a special licence for the wedding”

“Well, I suppose that’s a possibility” said Greta showing slight disappointment.

Kathy looked at me, I looked at her.

“Perhaps if we had some idea of how much you wanted to spend”

“Oh A class wedding” I said

Kathy had an obsessive personality and was permanently focussed on the business. Few things appeal to her as much as cold hard cash and she smelt the money on Greta and Bob. She started to glow with expectation, like a small child hearing the distant sound of bells on Christmas Eve. She turned to a new page in her notepad and started to write.

“Does your club have a large expanse of lawn?”

“What about toilet facilities?”

“Are there catering facilities”

“We can always bring such things in”

“But we need space”

When she got going Kathy oozed confidence and she was now trundling along at breakneck speed.

“We’ll need to see the facilities”

Now we were coming off the rails. I reached for the brakes.

“We’ll what?” I interrupted.

Kathy looked at me as if I was an insignificant insect.

“Of course we will” she said firmly

“There’s no problem with that” replied Greta “and don’t worry; you won’t have to take your clothes off. We can arrange a for a visit at a quiet time, you will be able to meet the secretary as well”

Well that reassured me not one little bit. This was a hoax