“I hope they don’t think that a paedophile in a dress splashing water on your kids head has any significance today,” says Lillian.
The waiter holds the silver tray in front of Lillian, she does her silent lion’s roar face, to the waiter as she takes a canopy. It is meant to be a smile, that she never quite mastered.
“Oh Lillian, old father Bob wouldn’t touch anyone.”
Amy takes a pastry and a serviette.
“You get them young boys around them in dresses and they go mad for it. Apparently,” Lillian takes a bite of her canopy. “,” says “The closest thing recorded to a fox attack in living history.”
“Father Bob is happily married.” Amy sips her flute of champagne.
“They bite off the boy’s genitals,” says Lillian. “Drug crazed.”
“That’s awful.”
“Like baby franks coming out of their skins.”
“Oh!”
“Worst case scenario.” Lillian shrugs. She couldn’t remember what fag-hag convention she went to with nephew Simon.
“I can’t see Father Bob.” She laughs. “The equivalent to bobbing for apples,” says Amy. “In a barrel full of prepubescent cocks.”
“Well maybe not Father Bob,” says Lillian. “What about Monsignor Ivan Roesdale up your mick joint? Is he married?”
“What is this Northern Ireland circa 1980?” says Amy. “You mean the Catholic Cathedral, Monsignor Rosedale, and, of course, he is not married.”
“His alter boys,” bellows Lillian. “Do they look miserable?”
“Oh Lillian.”
A waiter walks passed Lillian. “Pst!” The waiter stops and wheels around with his silver tray. Lillian takes a vola-u-vent, with her white, manicured fingernails. She does her same silent lion’s roar face as a thank you.
“I don’t mind if I do,” says Amy forcefully as the waiter starts to walk way.
“If they look miserable, I swear they are secreting body parts on their… um… person… which are not, um, er, their body parts to secret,” says Lillian.
The waiter offers his tray to Amy. She selects her canopy carefully.
“Yes, alright already,” says Amy. “The boys up the mick joint are getting…um…er… rodgered!”
“Apparently,” says Lillian.
The waiter looks shocked, he backs away with his tray in front of him like a shield.
“Thank goodness we’re not going to the Mick joint?”
“No.”
“Thank God!” says Lillian. “I wasn’t at all sure I was up for all that suffering.”
Lillian whistles another drink waiter who is standing a fair distance away with his flutes of alcohol sparkling in the sun. She then fully mimes her desire for 2 champagnes. The waiter wanders over confused seeking out an explanation from Lillian. When he gets close enough, Lillian takes 2 flutes with her manicured fingers. Same silent lion’s roar face as thank you.
“And that is only the alter boys,” says Lillian.
“Boom, boom,” they both say together.
The waiter offers a drink to Amy. “Scott,” she says. “Aren’t you Scott from the bar the other night?”
“Yes, I moon light as a waiter.”
“Grrrrrr,” says Lillian to Scott.
“Oh… I remember.” Scott backs away with his drinks tray.
“So which one of these temples of indoctrination did Penny and Stephen decide on?” asks Lillian. She is looking at her order of service trying to make sense of it.
“Oh Lillian, they are your relatives,” says Amy. “I’m only your plus one.”
“That is not something I always admit to in polite company,” says Lillian. “The Barington-Smythes.”
“Said just barely cloaking your loathing and contempt.”
“Was I cloaking my contempt,” says Lillian. “I wasn’t meaning to.”
“It’s his mother’s church,” says Amy. “Stephen’s” Amy shrugs. “Apparently.” Amy always knows how everything fits together, she always knows the detail.
“Stupid girl that Penny,” says Lillian. “Try to tell me how things are going to be run.”
“Stephen is her husband now.”
“Not yet.”
“Lillian what are you up to?”
“Oh nothing. I’m not up to anything,” says Lillian.
“Lillian Smythe, boy and man, how long have I known you, what are you up to?”
“Oh, don’t be so stupid,” says Lillian. “The sooner this travesty is over, the better.
It is indicated the people should take their seats, the service is about to begin.
Amy and Lillian make their way to the front door. They are at the door, being greeted by the priest. Lillian turns back into the sun, just as her head passes under the doorway arch and says, “Did this dump have a name?”
“St Barnabus Church.”
“So, one of the lesser saints,” says Lillian. “Doesn’t bode well.”
“I’m sure he was just as popular as all the other saints…”
“I’m sure we should have a MRI of your head,” says Lillian. “All made up. There has been marketing departments since the year 100BCE.”
Stephen is standing nervously up the front with his 2 grooms men.
“He’s going to have a long wait, if he is starting this early,” says Lillian.
“Don’t want to let her get away.”
“Nice looking boy,” says Lillian. “He looks sturdy enough to produce healthy babies.”
“That’s what it’s all really about, isn’t it?” says Amy.
“Baby making.”
120 year old Grandma Tito is in the central position in the church. Everybody is going up to her and kissing her rings, which she holds out flat in front of her.
Lillian passes by Grand Ma Tito. Lillian does the silent lion’s roar face at grandma, after which grandma says, “You. You.” Grandma points in Lillian’s direction.
“Good to see you up and about grandma,” says Lillian.
Lillian turns to Amy. “Oh, just die, already, you old, old bitch.”
Simon is in the second row, with another handsome young man.
“I hear that Simon has been down the fire station getting… um… er… serviced by… the… um…er…”
“Fireman?” asks Lillian. “I’m told it is a secret hose fetish.”
“So you’ve already heard and I don’t have to feel bad breaking a confidence.”
“I’ve wondered if he’d consider double dating,” says Lillian.
Lillian’s brother, Reggie is there with Big Birtha. “Reggie.”
“Faylene.”
Amy looks at Lillian. “Don’t ask,” says Lillian.
Macko had an early bail hearing and he just made it in time. Lillian made the silent lion’s roar face to him too. Macko visibly shakes at seeing Lillian.
Charlie’s brother, Harry, is there, sitting with their parent’s Olive and Selby in the second row on the other side of the church.
Josie Jahooverwatsit is there with her personal trainer husband Mike. He is a friend of Stephen’s, they are sitting next to Selby, Olive and Harry.
Lillian sits behind Simon. “Darling,” says Lillian.
“Auntie Lillian this is Blake, Blake this is Auntie Lillian…”
“You can just call me Lillian, darling,” says Lillian in a husky tone.
“And Amy.”
“Lillian. Amy,” Blake says with all the confidence of two people.
“How do you do,” gushes Lillian, croaky and low.
“Pleased to meet you both, I am sure,” says Blake.
“So are you two… you know…”
Simon tilts his head sideways in question
“Is he your current…”
“Current?” quizzes Simon.
“Squeeze, darling,” says Lillian. “The one that is making sure your cherry doesn’t grow back?”
“Aunt Lillian!” Most of the congregation looks around.
“Is all I am asking,” simpers Lillian. “He’s rather handsome.”
“He is,” gushes Simon with all the attitude of a young girl in love.
Some more relatives enter the church, Simon’s attention is distracted else where it is just about to begin.
Lillian looks at Amy then she points to Simon with her chin. “He’d take it like a chook, babe,” says Lillian. “Total pillow biter, he reminds me of your brother.”
“My brother?” exclaims Amy. “My brother is married with a wife and children.”
“Oh damn,” says Lillian. “I’ve nearly done that on so many occasions, who’d have figured today would be the, actual, day…”
“What are you saying about my brother?”
“Nothing, darling,” says Lillian. “I misspoke.”
“Thank you ladies and gentlemen, if you could take your seats.”
The church has filled up. “Not bad,” says Lillian to Amy. “You’d hate to die tragically young and then have nobody being bothered to turn up at your show to say goodbye.”
“It’s your fault he is in the mess he is in today.”
“Darling.” Lillian had to subdue a throaty laugh. “It is just natural selection working at its very finest.
“So if any man…”
Lillian first coughs with the tickle in her throat.
“Knows of a reason…”
Lillian coughs some more as if the tickle just isn’t going away.
“Why this man…”
Lillian coughs as though she may really be struggling with what ails her.
“Or this… woman…”
Lillian is coughing like the cough isn’t going away.
“Should not be joined in marriage.
Lillian now sounds like she is coughing up a lung, struggling for breath. She has turned scarlet and people are suddenly rushing to her aid.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I think we may need to stop the service at this point to attend to Mrs Lillian Barrington-Smythe.” The service was stopped and people came to Lillian’s aid.
Standing out the front of the church. A string quartet plays. “Ruined, but not quite,” says Lillian. She clicks at Scotty to bring champagne to them.
“Four years at RADA,” says Amy. “People forget.”
“That was the I-didn’t-know-what-to-do-with-myself phase,” says Lillian. “I still got my degree, though.”
Scotty offers a flute to Amy.
“Not ruined completely, but left to hang as a bloody rag in the memory of the special day,” says Lillian. “Penny is a witch. She led that rabble against mother’s will. You can’t blame me, I am only thinking of my children.”
Scotty offers Lillian a flute of champagne.
“I was imagining your cock caught in my throat the whole time, Scotty.”
“Oh, Jesus!” Scotty makes retching sounds. “Can you please just stop talking to me?” He backs away.
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