The vehicle which was at the porch now moved away and their chauffeur slipped smoothly into its place.
“One last word,” Cassie said, as the four girls alighted one after the other from the van, “in case we get separated inside there and we most probably will, let’s agree to meet in the banquet room at 1.00, then decide if we want to stay some more or call it a day, or should I say a night. Since we came together, we must all leave together in the same vehicle we came. Only our chauffeur will know us.”
She looked at her three friends all dressed like her in the local version of witches, the Dayinn, with a white, blood-smeared shirt, a black cape and a knee-length tight jean short, held at waist level by a leather belt. The traditional version had black gabardine shorts but the modern version that the girls had opted for allowed blue jeans instead. She admired again the quality of the work done by the body painters. All the girls were topless but even at such a short distance, she could not see it. They all looked very much alike, even the blood splatters on their tops had been made in the same places. What was even more amazing was that she could not discern the painted jeans which she knew was on Sachita from the real ones on Gaëlle and Belinda. The two girls had opted for a real garment with an open crotch in front and bare ass at the back, all held by the leather belt. Of course, crotches and asses had been covered in paint to give the illusion that the jeans were complete. All three girls in front of her looked exactly the same. And she knew she was no different.
As the car left the alighting spot, they moved towards the door where two ladies dressed as playboy bunnies were waiting, one standing, one sitting at a table with a heap of masks on her left and different coloured bands on her right.
— — — — — — —
Arrival at the boys’ party, 7.10 p.m.
The car stopped at the beginning of a circular drive, in front of an imposing residence, waiting for the large car in front of the entrance to deposit its passengers. From where he was, Kevin could see seven human shapes, five feminine and two masculine but could discern no other particular feature due to the distance and the shadows.
“Why doesn’t he bring us closer?” he asked.
“For discretion purposes,” Jean Paul answered. “The guests will only now receive their masks and you are not supposed to know who they are.”
“Oh, I see. That’s still another element of their intricate system to ensure anonymity.”
“Yes, and, believe me, you can be glad it is there. As such, only your chauffeur and the two attending ladies will know your identity and once you have your mask on, even they will be hard-pressed to recognise you from another similarly dressed person unless you have distinctive physical features like being very tall. And by the way, it will be the same chauffeur who will collect us afterwards. Nobody else will see our faces.”
The large car moved away but theirs remained in the same place, the previous arrivals still at the check-in desks. Finally, they all moved in. Then their chauffeur drove their car to the porch.