It was Saturday—the day of my hen night. Yippee!
I’d never been a fan of hen nights—they were just so juvenile. What could be more embarrassing than a bunch of grown women, parading around town, wearing silly costumes and hats? Well, not mine. I’d made it quite clear to Kathy and the twins that I was having none of that. If I had to have a hen night, then mine would be a classy affair.
What do you mean, famous last words?
Jack was much more enthusiastic about his stag night. His best man, Alby, had been organising it for weeks, apparently. Fortunately, they were going to West Chipping, so we wouldn’t have to worry about the two groups bumping into one another.
“Please tell me that you aren’t going to walk around West Chipping wearing those things?” I said.
Jack and Alby were sporting brand new bowling shirts with the words ‘Team Groom’ printed on the back.
“What’s wrong with them?” Alby looked affronted. “I designed them myself.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“I wasn’t sure about them at first,” Jack said. “But they’ve grown on me.”
“Just as well.” Alby picked up a cardboard box from under the kitchen table. “I’ve had a load of them printed.”
“How many people are going on your do?” I said.
“I’m not sure.” Jack shrugged.
“Twenty-six,” Alby said. “Twenty-seven if Tommo makes it. He had to have an in-grown toenail removed yesterday, so it’ll be touch and go. How many are going on your hen night, Jill?”
“Not many. It’s going to be a small, but classy affair.”
They both grinned.
“It will. I’ve spoken to Kathy and the twins, and they know I don’t want anything loud or tacky.”
“Good luck with that.” Alby laughed.
***
We’d all arranged to meet at Kathy’s house. Peter had taken the kids to his mother’s, and from there he would be going straight to West Chipping to meet up with the other guys.
“Men are so juvenile,” I said.
“Have you only just worked that one out?” Kathy was putting on her makeup. She’d always been so much better at doing it than I was. I just didn’t have the patience.
“Alby has had a load of bowling shirts printed with ‘Team Groom’ on the back.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Kathy laughed. “It is a stag night.”
“They’re supposed to be grown men.”
“Men never grow up. Surely, you’ve learned that much by now.”
“You wouldn’t catch me walking around town, wearing something as tacky as that.”
“What time did you say the twins are coming over?”
Before I could answer, there was a knock at the door.
“That’s probably them.”
It wasn’t—it was Aunt Lucy.
“Am I too early?”
“Of course not. Come on in. Kathy’s just getting ready. Would you like a drink?”
“Not yet. I don’t want to get tipsy too soon.”
“I meant tea or coffee.”
“Oh, right.” She laughed. “A cup of tea would be nice.”
“Come through to the kitchen. We can chat in there while Kathy tries to do something with her face. It could take her a while.”
Aunt Lucy shot me a disapproving look.
“I’m only joking. We’re always teasing one another. Did you tell the twins you were coming tonight?”
“No, I thought I’d let that be a surprise. I do have a message from your grandmother, though.”
“She hasn’t changed her mind, has she?”
“No, you can relax. She said she was sorry she couldn’t make it tonight, but she has her bridge club.”
“Thank goodness for bridge.”
A few minutes later, Kathy came through to the kitchen. “Is there a cup of tea in the pot for me?”
“I’ll pour you one.” Aunt Lucy made to get up.
“Stay where you are, Lucy,” Kathy said. “I’ll see to it.”
“I thought you were going to put your makeup on,” I quipped.
“I have put—oh, very funny. I notice you didn’t offer to pour me a cup of tea.”
“Have you forgotten? This is my special day. Everyone is supposed to pamper to my needs.”
As Kathy was pouring herself a cup of tea, there was another knock at the door.
“I’ll get it.” I volunteered.
It was the twins.
“I like your dresses. They’re identical, aren’t they?”
“I bought mine first,” Amber said.
“No, you didn’t,” Pearl snapped. “I’ve had mine for weeks.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, then?”
“I didn’t realise I needed to.”
“Girls, girls! Not tonight, please.”
“Sorry, Jill,” they chorused.
“Come on through. We’re in the kitchen.”
“Mum?” Amber glared at Aunt Lucy. “What are you doing here?”
“Going on Jill’s hen night, the same as you two.”
“But you’re too old,” Pearl said.
“Thanks very much.”
“You said you weren’t going to come,” Amber said.
“Jill persuaded me to change my mind.”
The twins both glared at me.
“There’s no reason why Aunt Lucy shouldn’t come with us. It’s not like this is going to be some kind of wild night. Just a few drinks and good conversation.”
The twins were still sulking when someone else came to the door.
“Mad. You look very—err, normal. For you, that is.”
“I thought, seeing as how it was your hen night, I’d better tone it down a little.”
“Thanks. Like I was just saying to the twins, this is going to be a very low-key affair.”
“Yeah, err—about that. There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What’s that?”
Before she could reply, someone shouted, “If it isn’t the blushing bride herself.” It was Deli. “Hiya, Jill. Are you ready to tear up the town?” She took a swig from the half-empty bottle of gin in her hand.
I’d try to describe her outfit, but there aren’t words that could begin to do it justice. Let’s just say that there were bits of her on display that really shouldn’t have been.
“Where is everyone?” She pushed past us and made her way through to the kitchen. “There you all are. Why are you drinking tea? This is supposed to be a hen night.”
I turned to Mad. “What are those in her hand?”
Before Mad could reply, Deli held up the stack of witch’s hats—PINK witch’s hats! “Look what I’ve got for us.”
“Sorry, Jill,” Mad said. “I tried to stop her.”
“Who wants one?” Deli said.
“I don’t think we—” I began.
“Me!” Pearl yelled.
“I’ll have one,” Amber said.
“Count me in.” Kathy grabbed one too.
Even though Aunt Lucy and Mad had remained silent, Deli handed them both a hat, and then she turned to me. “This one is for you, Jill.”
“I don’t really think—”
“Put it on!” Deli began to chant; the twins and Kathy soon joined in. “Put it on! Put it on!”
“Okay, okay.” I put the stupid hat onto my head. “Why did you get witches’ hats?”
“I had intended to get cowgirl hats, but these were on special offer.”
“Why pink, though?”
“It’s all they had left. They look good, don’t they?”
I wasn’t overly thrilled about the hat, but I supposed I could just about live with it.
“And this is for you too, Jill.” Deli held up a T-shirt.
“I’m not wearing that thing!”
But of course, I did, and the humiliation was complete.
The giant ‘L’ plate on the back was bad enough, but it was what was on the front that was beyond the pale.
What? No, it wasn’t that. Sheesh, your mind.
In big, bold words it said: I’m the bride. Please buy me a drink.
“Keeping it classy, I see.” Kathy laughed. We were all on our way into Washbridge in two taxis.
“Shut up!”
“Look at the positive side. You probably won’t have to buy any drinks all night.”
“You look stupid in that hat,” I said.
“I think it suits me. I’ve always thought I’d make a good witch.”
We kicked off the evening in what had once been called Bar Fish until it rebranded to Bar Piranha. It was some time since I’d last been in there, and I was quite surprised to find it had undergone yet another transformation. It was now called Bubbles, and it wasn’t difficult to work out why. I’ve never been a big fan of bubbles. When we were kids, Kathy spent hours blowing the things, but I could never see the point. All that effort, and two minutes later, they’d all burst.
“It’s great in here, isn’t it?” Amber said.
“I could do without all the stupid bubbles.”
“I love them.” Pearl took a sip from her purple cocktail.
“I’m not sure it was necessary to have twenty-six bubble machines,” I said. “Two would have been plenty.”
“I can’t believe you’ve counted them.” Kathy’s cocktail was bright orange.
“What would you like to drink, love?” A man, with more hair sticking out of his nostrils than on his head, pointed to my T-shirt.
“I’m okay.” I held up my glass. “Thanks, anyway.”
I’d told the barman to make me a lime and soda, but to put in a little umbrella so I could pass it off as a cocktail.
“If you change your mind, I’ll be just over there.” Nose-hair gave me a wink.
I turned to Kathy. “See! I told you this T-shirt was a stupid idea.”
“Relax and try to enjoy yourself. You only get married once. Hopefully.”
I hadn’t seen Aunt Lucy for a while, but then I spotted her. Deli had her cornered near to the bar. I probably should have gone and rescued her, but then I’d have been stuck with Deli.
Some sacrifices were just too great.
I’d managed to find a quiet spot, to one side of the bar. It was out of range of the bubble machines, and if I faced the wall, no one could see the front of my T-shirt.
“Shot time!” Deli appeared behind me. “Come on, Jill. We’re moving onto shots.”
“I’m okay with this cocktail.”
“Nonsense. A hen night isn’t a hen night without shots.” She grabbed me by the hand and led me over to where everyone else was waiting. In front of them, on the bar, was a line of shots. “Okay, everyone. On three. One, two, three.”
Everyone threw back their shot. Everyone except me, that is. I threw mine over my shoulder.
“Another round of shots, barman!” Deli demanded.
Moments later, we repeated the exercise. Everyone downed their shot except for me. Once again, mine went over my shoulder.
“Hey!” someone yelled.
I turned around to see a young man, wiping his face. He must have been walking past when I’d thrown the shot.
“Sorry.” I grabbed him by the arm and led him a few feet down the bar, so he wouldn’t give the game away. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He smiled. “Although, to be honest, I usually prefer to drink my shots.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“That’s okay. I take it that it’s your hen night.” He gestured to the T-shirt. “Can I buy you a drink?”
“I’d rather you didn’t. I’d only have to throw it away again.”
“Fair enough.” He laughed. “All the best for the wedding.”
“Thanks.”
***
When we’d finished at Bubbles, I would have gladly called it a day, but there was no chance of that. Deli led the parade of pink witches across the city centre to Mushroom, a new nightclub, which had opened only a few months earlier. It was so dark inside that I assumed they must actually be trying to cultivate said fungus. While no one was looking, I took off the T-shirt and dropped it into a waste bin.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to use the ‘fake cocktail’ trick this time because Deli insisted on buying the first round. Instead, I settled for something called Mushroom Fantasy. It was sludge coloured and tasted like vinegar, but apart from that, it was fantastic.
I’d forgotten just how bad the twins were at dancing. They would tell you that in the sup world they were the toast of the dancefloor, but here in the human world, they still looked like they were doing synchronised swimming, minus the water. Despite my best efforts to avoid the dancefloor, Deli had insisted we all join the twins.
Mad looked as though she was having about as much fun as I was.
“What time is it?” I shouted over the music.
“Almost one o’clock.”
“What time does this place close?”
“Six, I think.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
She wasn’t.
Somehow, I managed to last almost thirty minutes on the dancefloor. By that time, I was parched. I needed a long, cold, non-alcoholic drink.
The queues at the bar were insane. All except for one till where the barman was standing around, waiting for his next customer. Before anyone else could beat me to it, I made a beeline for him.
“Orange cordial, please. A large one with lots of ice.”
“Sorry, love. This till is for Mushroom Members only.”
I glanced at the long queues further down the bar. “How much does membership cost?”
“Sorry, membership is closed.”
“Please. Have mercy on me. I’m getting married next week.”
“That’s what they all say.”
“I really am. Look!” I pointed to the T-shirt. The one that was no longer there.
“That’s a nice dress, but I still can’t serve you.”
Cursing under my breath, I joined one of the other queues. While I was waiting to be served, I kept my eye on the members-only till, and quickly realised that something strange was going on. The barman never once asked to see a membership card. Instead, he either served the customer immediately, or sent them away as he’d done with me. How did he know which customers were members? He couldn’t possibly have memorised the face of every member. And then it dawned on me. Everyone he served was a vampire. All other sups and humans were sent away.
Another millennium came and went before I was eventually served.
I downed half of the cold orange in one go, and was about to return to the fray when I noticed two vampires were at the so-called members-only till. It was none of my business, but it occurred to me that investigating what was going on would give me an excuse to postpone the torture of the dancefloor.
I found a quiet spot beyond the cloakrooms and made myself invisible. Back inside, I clambered, unnoticed, over the bar. By then, another three vampires were being served. The barman didn’t even ask them what they wanted to drink. Instead, he bent down and opened what appeared to be a safe. Only it wasn’t—it was a fridge full of bottles containing a dark red liquid. It didn’t take a genius to guess what was in them.
What do you mean, it’s just as well?
Back at the cloakroom, I reversed the ‘invisible’ spell, and made a phone call.
“Jill?” Daze sounded surprised to hear my voice. “Isn’t it your hen night tonight?”
“Unfortunately, yes. I was hoping you might be able to give me Blaze’s number.”
“Sure. Is everything okay?”
“Fine, yeah. I have a tip-off for him.”
“Right. Are you ready?”
“Fire away.” I took down the number, and then gave Blaze a call.
When I got back to the dancefloor, I was surprised to find all of my party were seated at tables.
“How come you lot aren’t dancing?”
“There’s no room since that crowd arrived,” Amber pointed.
The dancefloor was full of old wrinklies—all shaking their booties. Not a pretty sight, I can tell you. And then I saw her.
“Grandma?” I turned to Aunt Lucy. “What’s she doing here?”
“Apparently, the bridge club finished early, so she persuaded them all to come here.”
At that moment, the music stopped, and the main lights came on. There was lots of banging and shouting, and then several uniformed police officers burst through the doors.
The one who appeared to be in charge called for everyone’s attention. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to put an end to your fun, but I have to request that you all leave immediately.”
To the sound of much moaning and groaning, the nightclub slowly emptied.
“Thanks for the tip-off, Jill,” Blaze, dressed as a policeman, whispered as I walked past him.
Outside the club, Deli had gathered everyone together. Grandma and her cronies were there too.
“Don’t panic,” Deli said. “We’ll go to Toadstool.”
“What’s Toadstool?” I said to Mad.
“It’s another club. A bit like this one. It’s a couple of miles out of town.”
“I don’t think I can take any more of this.”
“Me neither.”
Deli had taken charge of the taxis. Grandma and her entourage took the first three. The twins, Aunt Lucy and Deli climbed into the next one.
“Get in you two,” Deli shouted. “There’s plenty of room.”
“It’s okay. We’ll take the next one and see you there.”
When the taxi pulled away, I turned to Mad. “Pizza?”
“I fancy a burger.”
“Okay. Burgers it is then.”