Gaby Book 14 ~ The Girl ~ Chapter *39* Nuptials

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*Chapter 39*

Nuptials

 
 
I was woken, far too early, by Gloria doing her ablutions.

“Time is it?”

“Good morning, a few after seven, I’m nearly done then the bathroom’s yours, we can go down for frühstuck together when you’re ready.”

That sounded like instruction rather than request.

“Um yeah sure, “ I agreed.

 
 
“Morning, Gab,” Max greeted thirty minutes later when his mum and me arrived in the breakfast room.

“Er hi,” I’ve said it before, I’m not a morning person, I accepted the seat he held for me.

“Best make the most of this, Gaby,” Gloria mentioned, “you won’t get much chance to eat until the Breakfast.”

“I won’t?” I queried as I sipped at my first cup of restorative caffeine.

“Well you won’t be eating after you are dressed and there won’t be much time between hairdressers, makeup and dressing.”

“I er guess not.”

I hadn’t really given the getting ready business much thought until now, it’s obvious of course, but I’ve not done this before have I? I know back in Warsop Sylv did a few weddings, fancy do’s for the main players but often mothers, aunts etc too. Oh well, there’s no getting out of it so I guess I just need to put up and go with it.

On Gloria’s advice I had a breakfast that I considered would give me energy but not prove bloaty, I was mindful of that silly 50cm corset I have to get in to. Scrambled egg with salmon went down well, toast with Nutella® and a banana would hopefully keep me going. Of course, the rest of the wedding party were troughing too, I’d just about done when Sonia got everyone’s attention.

“Morning everyone, well today is the big day, the forecast is a bit mixed so I hope they have good heaters in the Dom.”

She paused to allow the chuckles and titters to die down.

“The gentlemen will be getting ready in suite three one two and ladies, we’ll be in the bridal suite on the fourth floor. The dressers should already be here so once you’ve done eating you can go straight on up. Ushers and groomsmen leave at twelve, brides party twelve thirty okay?”

Oh well, it’s not like I’d be doing much today anyway.

 
 
“Right, I guess I’ll see you all later,” I opined once my third coffee was drained.

“Enjoy it, Gaby,” the Baron told me.

“I’ll see you at the Dom,” Max advised.

“Er yeah.” I allowed.

 
 
I wasn’t the first to reach the Bridal Suite, organised chaos already occupied the rooms, a clothing rail was filled with the dresses, shoe boxes, hairdressers, bags of lingerie and bridesmaids everywhere. I’m sure you don’t need me telling you every detail; I was sucked into the vortex of excited energy and joined the production line. Around eleven we were pretty much ready apart from our dresses and there was a break in proceedings for sustenance.

The dainty sandwiches were morish but being in a tightly laced corset meant my ability to consume more than two was severely diminished. I’m sure the others weren’t laced as tightly, I think Gerta has it in for me.

“How you doing, Gaby?” Sonia asked as I tried to settle the girls a bit more comfortably.

“Er okay, I’d forgotten how the corset pushes stuff up.”

“Yeah, don’t think I’d want to wear one very often,” she agreed.

“I’ll second that.”

“Enjoying it?”

“It’s a different way to spend Saturday.”

“Well we’ll be dressing in a few minutes so use the bathroom before, there won’t be a chance until after the Dom.”

“Good point, thanks.”

 
 
It’s a good job the hotel has a lift, there’s no way I’d’ve got downstairs in the heels corset and dress hiding my feet in one piece. The hotel was strangely quiet, the grooms party and guests having preceded our departure, only the photographer who’d been snapping away all morning remained as we waited for the transport to arrive. There was an air of excitement, something I’d not experienced in Munich as a guest rather than participant.

The horse drawn carriages arrived, three of them looking resplendent with a pair of white horses pulling each, grooms and drivers dressed to the nines to match.

“Okay,” Sonia announced once Analise and her father were boarded, “Matty, Gaby and Maria, you take the second carriage, Chris, you Fabienne and Heidi take the other when we get to the Rathaus you’ll need to get down before Analise, I’ll fix the train there.”

It took a couple of minutes for us to load, I’d barely got sort of comfortable before we jolted away from the curb. It isn’t far of course but we had to go the long way round by road so it was twenty minutes before we drew to a halt in front of the Rathaus. The grooms helped us down and we prepared to do our assigned role, for now that’s train holders.

The idea is simple enough but the reality not quite so. We waited to for the bride to descend, Sonia feeding out the train behind her. There wasn’t exactly a hierarchy with the bridesmaids, we were instead paired in height order so I was with Matty at the end, the others spaced a couple of metres apart ahead of us.

“Ready everyone?” Sonia asked.

“Cold,” Heidi noted.

“Ana?”

“Let’s do it Son.”

Our little procession, Sonia leading, started the two fifty-metre walk to the Dom.

 
 
It’s one o’clock Saturday afternoon in the middle of Bonn we were bound to draw some attention. Being at the back I hadn’t seen that we had a police escort, yeah it’s not the huge event that Munich was but it’s still a bit out of the ordinary. The pace was necessarily slow – you try walking in 12cm heels across cobbles while carrying the weight of the train in one hand and a posy in the other. Thought so but that was my lot.

We reached Münster Platz, which is where the main bit of the Weihnachtsmarkt will be in a couple of weeks, and headed toward the door. There were more spectators here; the authorities had actually roped off an area in front of the doors, just in case.

“Gaby!” a voice I recognised yelled out, why me.

I glanced at the line of watchers and sure enough there they were, Con, Steff, Manda, Nena, Pia, Brid and Anna. I sort of waved my posy a bit so they knew I’d heard but today is definitely not about me. We quickly moved inside and once clear of the entrance our burden was allowed to sit on the ground. It might not have been far but that train weighs a ton!

 
 
Leaving Analise, her father, Sonia and now the two flower girls behind us bridesmaids moved into the church proper where our ‘partners’ waited to escort us to the front of the altar.

“Looking good, Gabs,” Max allowed as I threaded my arm through his.

“Er thanks.” He didn’t look so bad himself despite how he was dressed.

I never mentioned that did I? Us girls are in a vaguely Mittelalter style dress, the lads however have drawn the short straw. Yup they are in matching garb complete with bi colour hose, slashed doublet and I guess you’d call them bloomers, you know like in Shakespeare’s day. It sounds a bit comical and weird but on half a dozen reasonably buff young men accompanied by us beauties (bleh) it actually works – it’s certainly different to morning suits.

Bizarrely we were actually applauded, politely of course as we made our way through the pews, a group of musicians playing period music and garbed in similar fashion to ourselves provided the accompaniment – hang on what’re Mum and Dad doing here? They never said anything. At the front Johannes and his best man waited expectantly as the grooms and maids separated to our positions for the service. The priest signalled and the music changed to the Wedding March that sounds quite different played on lute, drum and recorders.

Analise started her last walk as a single woman preceded by the flower girls throwing petals and Sonia taking the full strain of the train. I’m not, but if I was at all, I’d think it was all quite romantic.

 
 
Being part of the wedding you get a different experience to those sitting in the pews, I was much more aware of what was going, what was said than in Munich. It also seemed to go somewhat quicker, it was about thirty minutes but it felt like five before the newlyweds left to sign the register. The temperature in the Dom wasn’t brilliant but bearable; I wasn’t looking forward to returning to the great outdoors.

A few spectators had hung around so we had an audience for the first photo session outside the Dom. My girlfriends weren’t amongst them, which is just as well with how Max is dressed, he’d never hear the end of it. Although there was an extra carriage to take us to the Botanical Gardens we were sardined, as we were twice the number – perhaps just as well as it kept us a bit warmer.

 
 
Although some of the photos were taken outside thankfully a lot were not, one of the hothouses providing warmth and shelter from the first flakes of snow that were now falling on the city. It was actually getting dark by the time we were done and someone had had the sense to organise motorised transport to get us back to the Günnewig. I think everyone was by now both cold and hungry, after being in these shoes for like four hours my feet were killing too!

The function room was considerably more crowded than last night; this evening is for a wider audience of course.

“You alright, Gaby?” Gloria enquired.

“My feet are killing and this corset,” I complained.

“You look gorgeous.”

Okay I’ll take gorgeous; it’s better than cute.

Max of course had slipped away, I’m guessing to change into more, erm, modern attire, an option I didn’t have, not having brought anything for this evening, I forgot okay?

 
 
“There you are,” Mum stated as I waited for Max to deliver some food – it’s a buffet this evening.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“We were invited of course.”

“You never said anything,” I accused.

“Didn’t we?”

“No you didn’t, what about Mand?”

“Staying the night at the Thesing’s.”

“Oh hi, Frau Bond,” Max greeted Mom.

“Hi, Max, not into the costume then?”

“It was a bit embarrassing but Ana always wanted a fairytale wedding.”

“I guess she got that, the girls looked nice.”

“She always does.”

“‘She’ is sat here,” I pointed out.

“I’ll leave you to it, can’t have your food getting cold,” Mum stated pinching what looked like a Nurnburger from one of the plates Max was holding.

Mum disappeared into the crowds and Max set down the plates.

“Ooo, hot food!”

“It’s still snowing out there,” he offered between mouthfuls of his potato cake.

“Great, it’s not even December yet.”

“You back at school this week?”

“Think so, I have to go to the clinic Monday morning for a check up.”

 
 
After the buffet was destroyed it was time for dancing, no the Mittelalter theme wasn’t carried through here – that would’ve been too much. My feet were still throbbing of course, my alternative footwear option was another pair of heels so no gain. The wedding party were all called to the floor once the first dance was underway with Ana and Johannes – I could hardly demur so I found myself once again in the arms of Maximillian Maria.

Mindful of the restrictions put on me by Mum I retired to my seat as soon as the tempo increased and waltzing became inappropriate. It didn’t mean I couldn’t tap my toes.

“Pfennig for them?”

“Oh hi, Soph, just a bit tired now.”

“Glad I didn’t have to wear that stuff.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“Your waist is tiny.”

“Yeah, fifty thanks to the corset,” I supplied.

“Get on with you! Fifty?”

Maddy Bell 16.01.16

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Comments

I just googled it

50 cm is 19.68 inches (for the Americans). I know Gaby is small, but wow.

Dawn

50cms or 20inches....

Back in the Victorian era, late 1800's, most ladies would have used corsets to restrict their waist size to around 20 inches. With that restriction many of them "suffered vapours" causing them to faint. It of course did not affect the servant girls!
Be grateful for a change in the style of dressing.

the vapours

Until I understood what nice girls were wearing in the 19th century, I assumed all this fainting was psychological.

Fainting

Some was deliberate. Swooning into some manly hunk's arms was a handy stratagy.


"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin