The Hen Party
The Chinese restaurant was pleasantly busy, enough for the waiting staff to give Ella’s party plenty of attention. The food was excellent and kept on coming, as did the drinks. Queenie was on her fourth Tia Maria and lemonade when she decided to make a speech. Penny and Helen, on either side of her, helped her up and readjusted the veiled hat she had insisted on wearing.
‘I just want to wish young Ella ’ere, all the best for her big day and also a big welcome home to her mum, Sennen.’ Queenie turned to Sennen, who was plucking at her napkin, ‘Sennen scarpered many years ago leaving two little ’uns with her parents. We all thought she was dead, but here she is, right as rain. Sadly, her parents died before she got home to see them.’
Ella’s toes were curling and could see that Sennen was screwing her napkin into a tight ball.
Penny saw all this and shot to her feet to save Queenie from embarrassing herself further. ‘That’s enough, you can sit down now, Queenie.’
‘I need to make the toast.’ Queenie was adamant.
‘Okay then, just a short one, wishing Ella well.’
‘I know what I’m doing. I’m not doolally.’ Queenie pushed her hat to the back of her head whilst pulling her arm from Penny’s crossly. She returned her attention to the table, ‘So please raise your glasses to those no longer with us, to absent friends.’
Penny shouted over her quickly, ‘To Ella.’
‘To Ella,’ repeated everyone.
Queenie sat down and knocked her hat into the remains of her banana fritter syrup. ‘Now look what you made me do,’ she said to Penny. ‘That’s me best ’at. I’m going to wear that at the wedding.’
Penny removed the hat from the pudding, and put Queenie’s Tia Maria to one side. ‘Coffees, anyone?’
When the coffees and After Eights arrived, Rosemary tapped her cup with a teaspoon. ‘Ladies, what a wonderful evening this has been and I am honoured to have been invited. Thank you, Ella.’
Ella smiled. ‘Thank you for looking after Mum.’
‘As you know, Sennen and I met as teenagers. She looked just like you, Ella, and I see in you the funny, kind, adventurous girl who loved you and Henry very much. To come back and face the music now is brave, particularly having to leave her family in India to do so. So my toast tonight is to: the Mother of the Bride, Sennen.’
Sennen was overcome and however hard she tried, the tears flowed.
She mouthed to Rosemary, ‘Thank you.’ Then Ella came next to her and hugged her. ‘Thank you, Mum. For coming back. Everything will be all right now.’
Penny and Helen raised their glasses again, all except Queenie who was talking to a tall pot plant. ‘Who’s in India, then? Nobody bloody tells me anything.’
Coffees finished, chocolate mints eaten, the evening began to wind up. Rosemary was looking at her watch. ‘Jools is just coming off shift. Anyone want to come back to mine for a nightcap?’
Ella shook her head. ‘I’m up early tomorrow. Kit and I are making quiches for the reception.’
Sennen, who had quietly paid the bill, tucked her arm through Ella’s. ‘Thank you for including me tonight. You had every right not to.’
Ella looked into her mother’s face and said in all sincerity, ‘Mum, I love you.’
Everyone was up now and finding coats and bags, all except Queenie who was licking the banana syrup off her hat and still talking to the plant. ‘Lovely food tonight. Did you have the pudding? Try some.’ She offered her hat to the plant. ‘Go on. Have a lick. Delicious, innit.’
Penny leant down and said, ‘Queenie. You’re hammered. I think it’s time for bed.’
‘Let me just say goodbye to this gentleman first.’
‘Queenie, it’s a plastic pot plant.’
‘Oh Gawd. Is it?’ Queenie peered at the plant and laughed wheezily. ‘Bloody hell, it is an all. Lovely fella though.’
Penny called to Helen, ‘Help me with Queenie, would you? She’s off her head.’
‘I’m perfectly sober, if you don’t mind.’
Helen and Penny pulled her to her feet. ‘You need to get home.’
‘I tell you what I need.’
‘What’s that?’ asked Helen, plonking Queenie’s hat back on her head.
‘I need a pint to sort me out or else I’ll have an ’eadache in the morning.’
‘I think you would have a worse one if you had a pint,’ said Penny, hauling Queenie out onto the pavement.
A collection of wolf whistles sounded behind them. Penny refused to look back but was nonetheless absurdly gratified, until running footsteps came towards her and someone pinched her bottom. She spun around, ready to confront her attacker.
It was her husband, Simon, who was swaying slightly and had a dozy grin on his face. ‘It’s me,’ he said.
Behind him were Kit, Adam, Henry and a couple of local lads, all sniggering.
Helen saw her partner Piran amongst them. ‘Hello.’ He smiled, fidgeting with the gold hoop in his ear. ‘Spotted your arse a mile off.’
Queenie took advantage of the distraction and broke free. ‘’Ello fellas. Who wants a pint?’
She tottered towards them and before she knew what had happened she was hoisted up in a fireman’s lift across Piran’s shoulder.
She cackled loudly. ‘Oh, Piran, I ’aven’t been slung over a bloke’s shoulder for a long time.’
Penny and Helen rolled their eyes and watched as Queenie was carried off with her skirt over her head and her bloomers on show.
‘She’s going to feel so ill in the morning,’ giggled Penny.
‘Oh, leave her to it. The boys will look after her. Actually, I feel almost jealous,’ smiled Helen. ‘Almost.’