Writing for Fun
August 2022
When Shall We Three Meet Again? - Jan Norman
The lavish wedding between Claire and Bernard was being held in the Majestic Hotel, Harrowgate. The guests had witnessed the civil ceremony in the reading room, and enjoyed a superb wedding breakfast in the adjoining drawing room. Now the majority of the guests had been ushered through to the Regency room where the evening reception was to be held. The scene was spectacular. In the low ambient light of the chandeliered ballroom the ocean of round white linen covered tables sparkled with crystal adorned flower arrangements. Matching linen covered chairs tied round with glittering purple bows completed the show of wealth and elegance. A five piece band played background music on a raised stage at one end of the room overlooking a small dance floor.
The proud bridegroom and pretty but flushed bride had dutifully greeted the guests that had been invited to the evening reception but had now left their post by the double doors to take a well earned breather and grab several glasses of champagne being offered around by the uniformed waitresses. Claire then wandered off to socialise whilst Bernard leaned back against the bar.
Lost in reverie and absently downing several more drinks his thoughts drifted back five years to the farewell evening he had had with his two best friends Paul and Chris. They had all met on the day they had arrived at university and been inseparable throughout four years of study and had even shared digs. They had been strange bedfellows. Chris had been a good looking, rich, rather effeminate boy studying languages. He had shown great affection for Paul, a quiet working class man of few words, taking archaeology. Paul had seemed equally attracted to Chris.
He, Bernard, had been the medical student. He thought of himself as being a plain speaking Yorkshire man and although straight was not intolerant of other men's sexual leanings. He sensed that the mutual affection that Paul and Chris shared ran deep and that both might be denying their true sexual gender but as far as he knew neither had taken it any further. What had united them was ambition and the willingness to work hard and play hard.
When, after four years, Paul and Chris took their finals he bade them farewell as he had another year at university before his own graduation and then even longer doing specialist GP training in order to become the fully fledged doctor of his dreams.
At their farewell dinner after much drinking Chris had dramatically announced 'When shall we three meet again?' In an alcoholic haze all had agreed to meet five years hence to see how each had fared. Paul was to keep them all in touch by e-mail and arrange when and where nearer the time. Chris laughingly announced that when they did meet they should each wear a yellow rose so that they would recognise one another. Bernard called him a silly sod. How could they not recognise each other but Chris had insisted and all had agreed to shut him up.
Five years had flown by and Bernard had graduated and been accepted by Claire's father, a practising GP, as a trainee junior partner. As the couple's relationship blossomed Claire's father had promised that, when married, he would make Bernard a senior partner. Life was good. He wanted to gloat. He had a secure job, a pretty wife and rich parents in law. What more could he want? He looked over the rim of his now empty glass and spied Paul sitting on his own at one of the tables drinking heavily. He had been shocked but not surprised when speaking with him earlier to realise that he was a changed man and had possibly 'come out'. There was no sign of Chris yet although he had promised to come to the wedding.
Bernard refilled his glass and glanced toward the doorway. Hey, who was that gorgeous looking babe? Taking a second, longer, more appreciative look he saw that she was wearing a yellow rose. Could this be Chris? Dear God surely he had not come out as well? Now, he was as liberal as the next guy, but surely his friend had not dared to come to his wedding in drag? That was pushing things too far!
Bernard fairly raced over to the blond bombshell who, by now, had acquired quite a large, admiring male entourage. 'Jesus is that you Chris?' he blurted. Large blue eyes lifted to meet his gaze and she nodded.
Bernard pulled her to one side, slightly out of earshot of the admirers, 'How the hell could you come in drag?' Bernard raged.
A surprisingly soft and feminine voice said, 'I'm not in drag dear friend.'
Bernard's bewildered gaze studied first Chris's delicate hair free jaw-line and then travelled down until arrested by the sight of nearly all of two of the most perfectly formed breasts he had ever seen, either as a man or as a doctor. 'Bloody hell, they look unbelievably real what are they made of?' and with medical curiosity overcoming reason slid his hands under the low cut gown and gave both breasts a good fondle to assess the composition.
Chris slapped down his hands and laughed. 'You idiot, you're the one who is supposed to be a bloody doctor. Don't you recognise someone who has had a sex change?' I've had the works, hormone treatment and surgery. I'm a fully functional woman! Bernard, I have always felt I was female. I thought you might have guessed that with my attraction to Paul being pretty obvious.'
'Well, I actually thought you might be a closet gay.'
Across the room, Claire, seeing Bernard go over to the new guest, started to follow but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw Bernard's hands cup the beautiful stranger's breasts and then the woman smile and start to laugh. The half empty glass of champagne was flung to the floor as she picked up her skirts and in a tangle of white lace and fury ran towards the couple. Catching her husband of a few hours by his lapels she swung him round, drew back her arm and, bunching her fist, delivered a creditable left hook. Taken completely unawares, Bernard crashed to the floor clutching his bloodied nose. 'You absolute bastard,' she screamed hopping round holding her painful knuckle. Wrenching her wedding ring off her finger she flung it at him and then rushed from the room sobbing noisily.
Stunned, Bernard staggered to his feet and wobbled after Claire on rocky legs.
Simultaneously, the open fondling of breasts had emboldened one of Chris's more inebriated admirers to chance his luck and he gave the lovely lass's bottom a hearty squeeze.
Chris, angered, as a woman, at being groped, reacted like the man she had so recently left behind, swivelled round on her high heels and, swearing in a voice that seemed to have dropped several octaves, punched her tormentor in the face. He went down like a felled tree knocking one guy into another and causing spilled drinks and curses. Then it escalated and soon more punches were thrown. Women screamed and tables were overturned as full scale mayhem ensued.
Chris composed herself, brushed down her tight fitting evening dress and decided that as it was Paul that she had come to see it was now or never. She had seen him look at her and by his expression realised he had come to the same conclusion as Bernard.
Paul who had got halfway out of his chair at the start of the commotion saw others rushing to defuse the situation and sat down again still sunk in despair. Sensing a presence he looked up to see Chris, looking the woman of his dreams but knowing now that they could never be together. He had to explain; he jerked to his feet and started to speak 'Chris I have something to tell you I . . .'
Chris put a fingertip to his lips to silence him. 'No. I must speak first. Please sit down. What I have to say might come as a bit of a shock.'
Paul listened and was staggered at the revelation. His heart turned somersaults. First he went hot, then cold as he knew that what he had to tell her would shatter their dreams.
Chris searched his face for some clue to his feelings. Choking and unable to speak Paul turned back his suit lapel and displayed a Gay Rights badge.
Chris's eyes widened and tears welled up. Oh God, what a cruel twist of fate. He was gay and could never be hers. The pain was unbearable.
Seeing her expression Paul could not stand it. 'Look I'm making a right hash of this. I can't find an easy way to say it. I tried a homosexual relationship because I thought I must be gay to have such feelings for you and you must be gay to be attracted to me. It was disastrous. I felt nothing but disgust. I only came here tonight to tell you that I still loved you, but only as a man could love a woman, and to say goodbye. When you dropped your bombshell I knew you could never forgive me for doing that. I am so sorry.' He dropped his head into his hands and began to cry. All dignity gone.
After what seemed an eternity Chris pulled his hands from his face, pulled him close and kissed him long and hard. Great Aunt Maud gave a squeal of delight, took another long swig of the strange fizzy drink and shuddered as the bubbles went up her nose. She took off her specs and after giving them a good polish stared once again at the couple locked in a steamy embrace. Lordy, this wedding reception was turning out to be better than any episode of 'Corrie'. Wait until she saw the girls at bingo.