Seven

The Western wedding was a huge success. There was even an authentic bar room brawl at the end. Fortunately no one called the police and I was not shot for being in the possession of a side arm.

As we worked Saturday’s we always took the following Monday off. Emma never quite liked this as she suspected I arranged it with the sole aim of having the golf course more or less to myself. Sometimes she was right about me.

Bright and early Tuesday morning I dropped off my cowboy costume and moseyed down to the ol’ office.

Kathy was already in and at her desk when I arrived.

“Hi Pete, how was the golf.”

“Pretty damn good even if I do say so myself” I replied “what did you do yesterday?”

“Oh you know this and that” she answered evasively.

“Who is he?” I asked

“I do not have another man” she told me firmly. She had been unattached since she dumped her ex boyfriend for being a dull engineer.

“So if it wasn’t another man, what’s the big secret?”

“There isn’t one” she said

But I could tell there was.

“I think I might drive out and see Giles” she told me gathering her things, “The personal touch might do the trick”

“Try and make him think of what he won’t be seeing” I said.

“Something like that” she replied in a vague manner.

Whoa I thought. Emma may be right.

Kath and I usually operated independently, meeting at least once a day to synchronise. She tended to smooth the clients and venue owners while I bullied our suppliers. We liked to present a united front to our richer clients and Greta and Bob certainly fitted that description. I had no idea how Kathy’s meeting with Giles had gone until the next day when we met in her office to catch up.

“He’s up for it” she told me

“What exactly is he up for?” I asked.

“The works, chapel, hall, grounds”

“Right, I’ll phone Sally and we’ll arrange a tour”

“What about a presentation?” she asked.

We usually arranged for a presentation at the clients’ house for all the interested parties, it was a slick public relations exercise allowing the two families to see the venues and get a flavour of the services we can provide.

“Well” I began “I don’t think so in this case”

Kathy interrupted me “You’re worried it will be at the nudist club aren’t you”

“No, not at all” I began, “It’s just, you how I feel, there is still a part of me thinks it’s a hoax.”

“Oh come on Pete, we’re too far down the road for that now, and anyway they’d have chosen some one with a bigger willy than poor old Bob and his cocktail sausage.”

“Let’s see if they like it first” I told her. Procrastination is my only plan in desperate times.

Two days later on a crisp sunny morning Kath and I stood outside Cottlestone Hall chatting with Giles. The key to a successful meeting is to be there before the client and Sally and Greta were not due to arrive for another half an hour. I gazed along the gravelled drive to the blue hills beyond. On such a perfect spring morning the estate shone like a jewel that surely Sally and Greta would not be able resist. Giles knew this too and he positively drooled, his smug aristocratic features grinning in anticipation of all his dreams coming true at the same time. Loads of naked totty running around his ancestral pile, and added to this was the chance of a lifetime; an only in your dreams opportunity of seeing Kathy naked. And the cream on the latte was that he was going to be paid loads of money for the privilege. And privilege describes Giles to a tee. He had it all, the title, the land, the ancestral home, the connections and that aristocratic arrogance that opened many a door that was forever closed to the rest of us. What he did lack, however, was the money, which is why he was entertaining us on a sunny Wednesday morning.

“I know Max Hunter, ya know” he drawled, “We’re in the same club”

“Really” I replied, “didn’t have you pegged as a nudist”

“Golf club, Peter” he reminded me sternly.

We were sitting on the terrace drinking luke warm tea.

“Never met the wife or sprogs mind” he continued “Filthy rich of course.” He paused while he took a sip of tea. “New money” added scornfully.

“Better than no money” I said sardonically. Kathy kicked me under the table. She didn’t want Giles to go cold on the deal.

“It’s very good of you to let us use Cottlestone Hall for this event” she said smiling as she gazed across the grounds. I watched Giles’ gaze roaming down her body, mentally stripping off her clothes.

“Not at all Kathy, I do so love your themed events”

“I know, but his is something of a departure for us” she continued as I dunked a digestive into my tea to underline my republican credentials.

“It’s very brave of you to take it on” said Giles, licking his lips.

“Ah well, you know us” I said, “Always up for a new challenge”

“I do so love the way you throw yourselves into these speciality weddings, always dressing the part” continued Giles staring at Kathy’s chest.

She turned to look at him and smiled.

“Oh there’ll be no dressing up this time”

Giles was a true aristocrat and as such was slower than slug in winter.

“Oh” he said despondently

“If you know what I mean” said Kathy coquettishly, with a sly wink.

“Ah ha... er yes” began a very flustered Giles

“Will you be joining us Giles?” I asked him innocently.

Before he could reply Kathy broke in

“Here they are”

A large silver Mercedes was coming slowly along the drive. Resisting the urchin urge to slurp out of the saucer, I gulped down the rest of my tea, and followed Kathy and Giles onto the gravel forecourt where the car had crunched to a halt. Sally and Greta emerged and stood for a while taking in the house with its fake Palladian frontage, the mock gothic chapel to the side, all framed by a hazy backdrop of the distant Mendip hills. I knew in that moment that we clinched the deal. Giles however was drinking in the view of Sally and Greta. He was looking as I had looked two weeks ago in my office. Greta looked gorgeous. I knew what he was thinking, and I chuckled inwardly at the disappointment he would feel when he got to see Greta naked. Sally was dressed casually in such a way that oozed money. This was in stark contrast to when we had last met, but you can’t look rich in the nude.

“Kathy, good to see you again” said Sally with genuine warmth as they embraced. This seemed overly friendly to me and I stuck out for a handshake. I introduced Giles while Kathy and Greta greeted each other like the best of friends. Mmm something was going on here.

The tour took about an hour, the house and grounds were at their immaculate best in the silver light of spring. Greta sang to herself as we showed her around, while Sally grilled Giles on his feelings.

“Kathy has told you of the nature of the wedding” she stated rather than asked

“Yes I am fully aware, Sally”

“We are not ashamed of being naturists, but if word got out then we may have some unwanted publicity”

“I can assure you Sally it is not something I wish to publicise”

Sally gave Giles a sharp look. But Giles’ expensive schooling at some the country’s most exclusive establishments was not in vain.

“Don’t mistake me, I fully understand and empathise with your daughter’s wish for a naturist wedding and while I do not worry about it taking place at Cottlestone Hall I am concerned with the event becoming public knowledge. My concern is that should prior knowledge of the event slip out we may invite unwanted attentions from the less salubrious members of the local populace, which would detract from your enjoyment of what is meant to be best day in your daughter’s life”

True class will out and all Sally could do was nod in agreement to that load of old aristocratic flannel.

“I’m sure Peter has security all worked out” he added.

I hadn’t, but I had been thinking of little else as I walked around the grounds. Not least because the awful truth was beginning to dawn on me that Kathy was going to take her clothes off, and a lot of pressure would be coming my way to join her.

An hour after it had arrived the silver Mercedes was rolling up the drive towards the main road. Nothing had been said but all three of us knew that this was to be the venue for our first, and if I had anything to do with it, only nude wedding. I was about to tackle Giles about security when he dropped his bombshell.

“How are we going to cater this? My staff won’t be happy with all those people roaming around in the buff”

Kathy and Giles looked at me.

“Oh no,” I said “No, no, not Emma”

Emma ran a catering business. This is how we had met. We had employed her company to provide the food for a modest Star Trek wedding, where all the guests had worn those unflattering lycra uniforms. As usual Kathy and I had taken part and I like to think it was my pointy ears and cool Vulcan logic that had attracted Emma to me. We still put some work her way, but most venues had their own catering these days. This was no great loss to her as she was usually busy feeding smoked salmon to self important business men at corporate courses.

Kathy smiled, “Don’t worry I’ve already talked to her about it, she thinks she can cope”

Yes, but could I?