The Girl at the Bus-Stop (16 page)

Rudge felt his cheeks flushing slightly, and he looked down at his blue suede chauffeur’s shoes for a few moments.

‘Well thanks all the same,’ he said patting his pockets, ‘but I think I’ve left my wallet in my other ridiculous suit.’

The man smiled and walked over to sit in a leather armchair, from where he could observe his wife’s ordeal in comfort. Becky and Rudge walked away to find some respite from the hullaballoo of the party.

It took quite some time to reach the far end of the ballroom because guests kept coming over to pester Becky. She had been drawing admiring glances in her costume, and found the offers whispered to her to participate in disciplinary twosomes, threesomes and foursomes tiresome. Her patience was wearing as thin as a garden cane, and Rudge eventually managed to steer her away through the open French windows.

They stepped out on to the terrace for a much needed cigarette, sitting side by side on a wooden bench to gaze out upon the landscaped rear garden. It was lit up like Christmas, with dozens of coloured lights suspended from trees and shrubbery, and the geometrically perfect paths were illuminated by powerful sunken spotlights.

Rudge and Becky had already grown accustomed to the strange sights and sounds of the party. They didn’t bat an eyelid when two naked men ran across the gravel in front of the balustrade pulling chariots. Even the scantily-clad female Boudicca-lookalike drivers cracking whips above their heads failed to impress.

Rudge reached over to flick his ash into the ashtray on the coffee table. He sighed audibly when he realised that it was a naked man on all fours.
 
Becky laughed as she saw the expression on Rudge’s face, and she slapped the table’s buttocks before plonking her booted feet on its back.

‘Thank you,’ a small voice said.

‘I wish they’d hurry up and announce the start of the buffet, I’m starving,’ she said.

‘You’ll be lucky, I don’t think there is one,’ replied Rudge, ‘which is just as well. I’ve seen nothing but people’s dangly bits all evening, and the thought of eating food in front of all that naked flesh makes me feel ill.’

‘Have you spotted Nikki Blandford yet?’ asked Becky.

‘No, she’s either late or she was probably just as shocked as us and made a quick exit.’

‘It’s all pretty harmless though,’ Becky replied, ‘it’s just people living out their fantasies in real life. I haven’t seen anything too shocking, apart from that skinny old man getting shagged with a .....’

Rudge put his fingers in his ears before interrupting.

‘Too much information, Becky.’ he said, ‘I’m not listening.’

Becky hit him playfully on the arm before stubbing out her cigarette in the ashtray, giving the coffee table’s buttocks another quick slap.

‘Thank you,’ the small voice said.

 
‘In all seriousness, Becky,’ said Rudge, ‘judging by what we’ve witnessed this evening I can understand why the book is selling so well. It’s giving readers a glimpse into other people’s fantasies so they no longer have to feel guilty about harbouring such dark desires themselves.’

‘I don’t think I’ve had any desires as dark as this lot’s.’ she said, ‘Even if I did, I wouldn’t want to share them with complete strangers.’

‘We do seem to thrive on a sort of repressed sexuality in Britain,’ Rudge replied philosophically, ‘it must go back to the days of heavy state censorship. Like with
Lady Chatterley’s Lover
and
Fanny Hill
.’

‘What were they, porn films?’

‘No they were novels with some explicit content, but they were banned in the UK right up until the 1960s I think.’ Rudge explained, ‘Consequently as a nation we’ve developed a sort of
Carry On
film mentality when it comes to sex. I think those films were popular not so much for the corny comedy, but more for the generous cleavage and the guaranteed glimpses of Barbara Windsor’s tits and buttocks. Back then the cinema was the only place people could see that sort of thing, unless they had BBC2 of course.’

‘I’ve seen one or two of those
Carry On
films, and they just seemed to be full of dirty old men lusting after schoolgirls.’

‘
Bwah
-hah-hah-hah,’ replied Rudge, imitating Sid James.

‘One thing I’ve noticed tonight,’ said Becky, ‘although the guests are all disguised I get the distinct impression I’ve seen them before, and some of their voices sound familiar too. Like that tall bloke who wanted me to go back to his house, to whip him with his scout belt. I’m sure he’s the bloke on
News at Ten
.’

 
‘Nikki said that a lot of celebrities would be here tonight.’ said Rudge, ‘Come to think of it, do you remember seeing that elegant looking blonde?’

‘Which one, the place is full of them.’

‘She was doing the nude tightrope walk above the huge vat of lime flavoured jelly.’

‘How could I forget?’ said Becky, ‘There were at six fat blokes wallowing about in that jelly like hippos, just waiting for her to drop in.’

‘Well I could be wrong, but she reminded me of that Olympic swimmer from a few years ago.’ he said, ‘She must be well into her forties by now, but she still looks incredibly trim.’

‘Yes, I’ve noticed a few very trim looking women like her around.’ she replied, ‘The waxing clinics of the West End must have been raking it in over the past few days.’

Rudge stood up and stretched his arms out, yawning as he gazed up at the orange glow of the semi-rural night sky.

‘What do you fancy doing now?’ he said wearily, ‘shall we stay for the firework display, or give Harry a call and get him to pick us up? We can grab some grub on the way home if you like.’

‘Sounds like a plan,’ she said, smiling, ‘unless you want to borrow some cash to bid for that brunette at the auction?’

‘Had I been at my house I might have been interested,’ he replied, ‘she could have got stuck into my garden for a start. It’s so overgrown the neighbours wouldn’t even have noticed a nude woman roaming about in it. I may have had to keep her for a bit longer than twenty four hours though.’

Rudge stubbed out his cigarette carefully in the ashtray, and Becky dutifully slapped the table’s buttocks again.

‘Thank you,’ the small voice said.

‘I’d better do one last circuit to see if I can find our friend Nikki before we go,’ Rudge said, ‘I just want her to see that we did actually turn up, and that I’m wearing this daft costume she forced on me.’

One of the waitresses appeared on to the terrace carrying a full tray of drinks, and offered it to Rudge and Becky.

‘There you go, Lady Penelope,’ said Rudge taking the whole tray from her, ‘you sit there and enjoy some champagne, and I’ll be back in a jiffy.’

‘Okay, but don’t take all night, Parker, I want to go home.’

‘Yes, milady,’ he replied.

He followed the waitress into the house, mesmerised by the almost hypnotic movement of her chubby bare buttocks swaying as she walked. Eventually she veered off into the kitchens and Rudge had to turn around and walk all the way back to the ballroom.

In his search for Nikki he stopped several passing masked young ladies of a similar build and hair colour, but he had no luck. He was just about to give up the search when he noticed a number of archways partitioned off with heavy drapes. He walked over to the nearest one and pulled back the curtain to peer inside.

A small gathering of guests were seated in a huddle around a circular platform, twelve feet in diameter and three feet high. The spectators were watching intently as two muscle-bound hulks wrestled each other in the nude, under the watchful eye of a chisel-faced woman brandishing a cane. The men were locked together in a complex hold, their arms and legs intertwined and their faces just inches away from each other’s private parts. If the move was ever documented in the rules of wrestling the technical term would probably be a fellatio half-Nelson.

A shudder found its way down Rudge’s neck, and he retreated to move along to the next set of drapes. This housed a similar gathering, but there were a lot more people watching than chairs to sit on. A sad faced woman in her fifties was tied naked on her back to an upright board, with a young man and woman in skin-tight black latex standing either side of her.

The man was showing the many designs of body clamp available, passing examples to members of the audience to examine. He explained that they could be bought from the display stand in the corner, or via his company’s website. His companion was demonstrating multiple clamping techniques, placing several between the volunteer guinea pig’s legs, and on to her nipples.
 

Rudge was about to leave when he spotted Nikki Blandford standing just a few feet away. Despite wearing a Lone Ranger mask, Rudge recognised her instantly from her incredibly long shapely legs and the heady aroma of her expensive bespoke perfume
, Nikki by Nikki
. Her party outfit comprised a pair of pink leather rodeo chaps, cowboy boots and Stetson and she was topless apart from a silver sheriff’s star covering each nipple.
 

She was holding hands with a young man standing alongside her in a tint buckskin loin cloth and moccasins. On his head was Native American feathered head dress, and his face was heavily disguised with multi-coloured war paint.
 
Rudge waited patiently for the demonstration to end so that he could move across and talk to her. He leaned against the wall at the back, glancing over to the stage now and again and wincing as the middle aged guinea pig squealed with delight..

On the terrace most of the champagne glasses from the tray were now empty, and Becky had been joined by a new companion on the bench. Gale Buckingham was dressed in a tight fitting leather Cat Woman outfit, with most of the bulges in the wrong place.

‘I bet you weren’t expecting to see me here, Ms Caine,’ she said seductively, ‘I was in two minds whether to come to this shindig, but
 
when I knew you’d be here
 
I just had to. A little bird told me you’d be dressed as Lady Penelope, and I must say you look absolutely voluptuous.’

‘Did you not get the message when I left your place, Gale,’ replied Becky, slurring her words, ‘I don’t want anything to do with you. Please get it through your head you’re not Faye Delahaye you’re just a kinky old actress, so get over it.’

Gale seemed undeterred by the rebuke and placed her hand gently on Becky’s leather clad thigh.

‘Don’t be so quick to judge me, Ms Caine, we all have our needs, ‘ she said quietly, ‘and besides, have you even considered the advantages?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’re a writer and I’m a famous film actress,’ she said with a warm smile, ‘what if there was
Disciplinary Attraction
the movie? You’d make an absolute fortune and more importantly, I’d get to play Faye Delahaye on the silver screen.’

‘That sounds interesting,’ said Becky, nodding her head drunkenly, ‘in fact I’d go as far as to say, very interesting.’

‘Here,’ she said handing Becky an envelope, ‘when I was queuing for the Ladies just now I jotted down a few ideas on the back of this. But before we take it any further I really would like to get into the character as soon as possible, so when’s best for you?’