My Pear-Shaped Life: The most gripping and heartfelt page-turner of 2020!

by Harrington, Carmel

  ‘I’ve got something on this evening,’ Billie said.

  Greta watched the disappointment flood her uncle’s face and felt a flash of anger. Billie was being quite rude. ‘Can’t you change your plans? We’ve come a long way, and I know Ray was really hoping to at least have a conversation with you!’

  ‘I’m not making up an excuse. But you’ve arrived on the eve of a big event for me. Tomorrow I’m taking part in the Kansas Women’s Bodybuilding Contest.’

  Greta looked at Ray in shock. That was unexpected.

  ‘I’m not normally this colour. It’s just for the competition. All the competitors tan up beforehand.’

  ‘Thank feck for that,’ Ray said uncharacteristically, then apologized quickly as Lucy bellowed laughter. ‘No offence.’

  ‘None taken. I’m sure you both must think I look very strange. If I’m honest, I’m not even sure what I’m doing. I don’t have a cat in hell’s chance of winning. I haven’t taken any steroids to help me build muscle, so I’ll be one of the smaller contestants. Even so, I’d love to get into the top three.’

  ‘Are steroids allowed? Surely there’s tests to check for them?’ Greta was shocked by her admission.

  ‘Unfortunately they are prevalent in this industry. But I’ve never been tempted. I want to do this my way, on my own, without any help from anyone or anything.’

  ‘Do you have to lift weights in the competition?’ Ray asked. His only knowledge of bodybuilding competitions was from his childhood watching The Strongest Man on TV.

  ‘It’s more about my physique. Which I have developed from lifting weights. I’m in the Ms Bodybuilder category. The tan by the way helps to accentuate the muscle tone.’

  ‘Ohhh,’ Ray and Greta said together.

  ‘She’s been training so hard,’ Lucy said. ‘I’m in awe of her. Between that and taking care of Susan, she’s a wonder.’

  Billie smiled at her neighbour. ‘We all do what we have to. I would love to spend some time with you too, Ray, but it’s just bad timing. I’ve been in training for over a year now for this competition. I can’t bail on that, even for you.’

  ‘Nor would I expect you to,’ Ray said.

  Greta watched Ray watching Billie. And hoped that one day someone would look at her the same way … even when she was the colour of an Oompa Loompa. She had to do something to get them together again. Then she had a brainwave and said with a smile, ‘I’ve always wanted to go to a bodybuilding competition …’

  Chapter 22

  If Greta could have listed a thousand things she would end up doing while on their road trip, attending a ladies’ bodybuilding competition would not feature on it. There were five divisions as part of the competition, Bikini, Figure, Physique, Fitness and Bodybuilding. Billie was taking part in the Figure division.

  ‘It says here that this is a blend of bodybuilding and fitness,’ Greta said, reading the brochure. ‘Judges will look at symmetry, presentation, skin tone. And looking at the room, Billie has got the skin tone right anyhow.’

  There was a sea of bronzed faces everywhere. It was easy to see who were the competitors and who were supporters, like Ray and herself, who were pale and uninteresting in comparison. But she wasn’t feeling rubbish; in fact she was feeling pretty damn fine. She had a new pair of jeans on, which fitted her perfectly. Normally when she wore jeans, the button cut into her belly button within five minutes and she’d have to open it. She’d had these on for over an hour and they were comfortable. In fact, she could run her fingers around the waistband and not risk cutting off a digit. She’d also put on a bright yellow batwing top that her mam had bought her last Christmas, but she’d never had the nerve to wear. Somehow it seemed fitting to wear it in a sea of orange bodies. She realized that she must have lost a little more weight since leaving Ireland. The walking and healthy choices for meals were paying dividends. She was still overweight but she felt less Big G and more Greta, with every mile she was taking towards Las Vegas.

  Her phone beeped. Dylan sent her a picture of a cat wearing a bikini.

  Greta: Cute. But she’s way out of your league.

  Dylan: I’ve only got eyes for one, Silver Lady.

  Greta: Who? Spill!

  Dylan: That would be telling.

  Greta: Coward.

  Dylan: Yep. Take pictures of the orange one for me.

  Greta and Ray wandered around backstage trying to find Billie, as she’d told them to do the previous evening. There were several tanning booths in operation.

  ‘Please say she’s not going for a fourth layer!’ Greta said when they found her hovering around a tanning booth. They nearly didn’t recognize her. Her hair was now arranged into the biggest curly blow-dry Greta had ever seen. And she was wearing full make-up that wouldn’t look out of place on RuPaul’s Drag Race.

  ‘They are some lashes you’ve on,’ Greta said, taking in the long thick black false lashes that looked like caterpillars on Billie’s eyes. At the end of each was a small diamanté.

  ‘I might get another layer of tan. What do you think?’ Billie said.

  Greta looked around at her competition. Most were in or around the same shade as Billie, all with big hair too. ‘I think you look perfect the way you are. Don’t overdo it.’

  ‘Really? OK. Maybe you’re right.’

  ‘You look beautiful,’ Ray said. He much preferred her yesterday when she had no make-up on. Despite wearing the new T-shirt that Greta said made him look hip and cool, he felt like a fuddy-duddy beside Billie. He was beginning to suspect that he was no longer the type of guy Billie would go for. ‘Can I get you a drink or something to eat?’

  ‘No!’ Billie said. ‘Sorry, didn’t mean to snap. But I can’t eat anything until after the competition. And I’m also off drinks too. I need to dehydrate myself some more.’

  ‘Come again?’ Ray asked, baffled by her statement.

  ‘I’m abstaining from drinking anything; it helps to reduce body fat and ensure maximal muscle exposure.’

  Greta’s stomach growled in response to the thought of fasting like that.

  Billie replied, ‘I’m in this to win it. So I’m ready to do everything I need to do to ensure I’ve the best possible chance. Even if that means wearing fake tan, dying my hair, calorie counting … this competition is important to me.’

  Greta replied, ‘Well, good for you then, Billie. I wish I had some of your resolve. Problem is, some of my best friends are carbs.’

  To her relief, Billie laughed at the joke.

  ‘What do you need to do now?’ Ray asked.

  ‘Wait for my turn to go on. Change into my costume. I think I’ll practise my poses some more.’ She went on to explain how there were several poses each contestant had to make on stage, to show off their various muscle zones. ‘It’s the part of the contest I’m least prepared for. I’ve never been one to put myself on a stage for anything.’

  ‘Give me your hand,’ Greta said.

  When Billie didn’t make a move to do so, Greta leaned in and took her right hand in hers. ‘Acupressure is a great way to relieve tension. It balances the circulation or something. We learned the technique in an acting workshop I was in. Let me show you.’

  ‘You are an actress?’ Billie asked.

  ‘She was a child star. In the number one Christmas advert in Ireland, voted for five years running,’ Ray boasted.

  ‘He’s my number one fan. Bigging me up comes with the job description!’ And while Greta was chuffed by her uncle’s unfailing pride in her, it was also depressing to think that her finest moment had been when she was eight years old.

  ‘That’s what uncles do!’ Ray said.

  Billie was taken aback. ‘You’re her uncle?’

  ‘Yeah. Who did you think I was?’

  ‘Her husband.’

  Greta gagged. ‘Ewwww … stop grossing me out. He’s old enough to be my … well, my uncle! Did we not say that yesterday?’

  Billie shook her head. And the look of relief on her f
ace was impossible to miss. Greta watched her give Ray the side eye, looking at him as if for the first time.

  ‘Our bad! Give me back your hand. Right, use your thumb and forefinger to massage the soft area between your thumb and index finger. See?’ She demonstrated the technique.

  ‘Oh, that feels lovely,’ Billie said, smiling. And Greta saw a glimpse of the woman that Ray carried in the photograph.

  ‘Even better if you have the right oil. Do this just before you go on stage. It should help.’

  ‘Do you ever get stage fright?’ Billie asked.

  ‘Sometimes. But having performance anxiety is kind of a deal-breaker for an actress. Once I start, I always seem to get lost in the role and I’m grand. But I know that stage fright can feel like you are being heckled mercilessly. Just remember that the heckler is in your own mind. And the worst thing you can do is to start arguing with him, right? Rarely does a performer of any description come off well with that. You’ve got to suck it up and ignore it.’

  ‘Suck it up on stage. Ignore the heckler in my head. Massage my hand. Got it,’ Billie said.

  ‘Immerse yourself in the poses. Truly and completely. Focus on the performance, not the anxiety. Oh and don’t forget to breathe.’

  ‘That’s really helpful,’ Billie said. ‘I’m going to go find a quiet corner to practise. And once the competition is over, I’ll come to find you. I’d like to take you up on the offer of dinner. Because trust me, I intend to basically eat a cow once we’re finished, win, lose or draw!’

  The grin of delight on Ray’s face made both the ladies smile.

  ‘She’s intense,’ Greta said as Billie walked away. ‘But I like her. You on the other hand, Uncle Ray, need to start talking to her.’

  ‘She scares me a bit. She’s really different from how she was back then.’

  ‘You’re not the same person either. A lot of time has gone by.’

  ‘I’m not so sure about that. I don’t think I’ve changed much since then. Which is perhaps the problem,’ Ray said. ‘Come on, let’s find some seats near the front.’

  ‘You know her thinking you were my husband explains why she acted a bit weird yesterday.’

  Ray was kicking himself. He should have made it clear that he was single from the get-go. No wonder Billie had been distant.

  ‘This competition means a lot to her,’ Ray said.

  ‘Yep. I wonder why? I mean, she doesn’t strike me as the overly competitive type.’

  ‘No she isn’t. Or at least, she wasn’t when I knew her. Maybe that’s changed.’

  ‘Maybe. But I don’t know … it just feels like there is more to this for her than just picking up a trophy.’

  ‘You’re quite perceptive, aren’t you?’

  ‘I watch people. I think all actors do that. We borrow things from people in our lives. A look. A gesture. A tell.’

  ‘Well if you see any more looks on her face that show she cares for me still, let me know. Thanks, by the way. For helping her out earlier with the heckler. That was kind of you. How’s the heckler in your head?’ Ray asked Greta.

  She thought about this for a moment. She had managed to quieten the negative thoughts somewhat. Last night, she’d looked at the photographs they’d taken at the ball of twine. And what she noticed was how happy she looked. OK, afterwards she’d noticed her big thighs that had never seen daylight between them, but it wasn’t the first thing. That was progress. ‘Quieter,’ she said to Ray. ‘I’m good. Promise.’

  They took their seats and both looked around the room and the stage with wide eyes. It was alight with multicoloured lighting. There was a large banner across the stage that said, ‘Every Body Is Beautiful’. And, for once, Greta didn’t feel the need to redress the bullshit. She realized that she liked the idea of everybody feeling beautiful, no matter their size. Every woman backstage looked confident and happy. And utterly glorious. And wasn’t that the most important thing? Feeling good about yourself, ignoring beauty standards and finding a look that works for you and nobody else. That’s what these ladies had done.

  ‘Can you feel that?’ Ray said. ‘The atmosphere feels thick with tension, doesn’t it?’

  He was right, Greta realized. Just as she had rehearsed for an audition, these contestants had done the same too. Suddenly music belted out over the intercom, and their MC for the event came out.

  ‘Kinda broad at the shoulder, slim at the hips, no other bottle is better equipped,’ Greta whisper-sang the Domestos bleach advert jingle as a massive bodybuilder walked out.

  ‘It’s strong it’s thick, it sure is mean, big Dom, big bad Dom …’ Ray finished, and they both giggled.

  ‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Brad, your host for today. We’re going to kick off the event today with the Figure competition. You sure are in for a treat. These ladies have been working hard and their muscles even harder.’ The room laughed in appreciation.

  ‘That’s Billie’s category!’ Greta said. She crossed her fingers for luck, as she used to when she was a kid. Ray sat up straighter and felt his heart begin to beat faster in anticipation. Brad then told the audience that the ladies would start with poses to highlight their V-taper and lat spread, full felt muscles and defined quads and glutes.

  It sounded like a foreign language to Greta and Ray. Brad called out each contestant, one by one to the stage. Each of them came on wearing a tiny sequinned bikini, and when they reached the front of the stage, they began a series of poses. And the weird thing was, Greta celebrated their bodies, as she cheered each one onto the stage. She would have bet her savings that being here would make her feel bad about herself. But somehow, seeing these women move gracefully across the stage, she felt stronger too, and felt herself sitting up straighter in her chair.

  ‘I didn’t realize Billie would be wearing one of those. I assumed costume meant some sort of a fancy dress,’ Ray squeaked.

  ‘I’m not sure any of them are actually technically wearing anything. Postage stamp springs to mind. Look at that one, it has rhinestones all over the bottoms,’ Greta said. They both tilted their heads to one side to get a better look.

  Every now and then someone from the audience shouted out in support of their friend on stage.

  ‘You’re killing it!’

  ‘Look at that back!’

  ‘We have to do that for Billie when she comes out,’ Greta said.

  Then Brad said, ‘Welcome Billie Haley, from Cawker City!’

  Time froze for Ray, and everything disappeared, except for Billie, who walked into the spotlight and glided to the front of the stage.

  ‘Holy shit, Uncle Ray. You are seriously punching above your weight with her! Look at that figure!’

  Ray didn’t answer, because he couldn’t take his eyes off the vision on stage. He didn’t want to miss a moment of this. She was wearing a silver bikini that looked like a mermaid’s fishtail. The bikini bottoms were held together with a string of pearls across each hip. And the straps of the bra top the same. Billie’s hair had been taken out of its ponytail and now fell in loose curls over her shoulders.

  ‘She doesn’t look so orange now when you see the whole look together,’ Greta said. ‘Oh look, I really like her shoes.’ She was wearing a pair of sparkling silver four-inch heels. ‘And she doesn’t look too nervous. She’s smiling anyhow. Holy shit, those abs are rock hard.’

  ‘Should we cheer?’ Ray asked.

  ‘I nearly forgot. Here goes. Look at the back on that!’ Greta screamed.

  ‘Yeah!’ Ray shouted, then apologized when Greta shook her head. ‘I couldn’t think of anything to shout!’

  Billie posed to the front, the side, and then turned around, pulling her hair to the side so she could showcase her back.

  Finally, Ray found his voice, saying softly, ‘She’s magnificent.’

  Greta said, ‘That’s what you need to shout.’

  So he did, and Billie heard him, turning towards his voice.

  Once every contestant was on the
stage, they formed a line, and Brad called out, ‘To be the best, you have to play with the rest. Let’s see the best these ladies have.’ He called out a series of poses to them that they performed in perfect harmony.

  ‘Front double bicep, please.’

  ‘Back double bicep. Push down.’

  ‘Side tricep.’

  ‘They are quite graceful,’ Greta said. ‘Synchronized. They must have put so much effort into training to get to this shape. I’m in awe. I wish I was a gym bunny. I’m just too lazy to ever do something like this.’

  When the poses finished, the ladies all stood side by side, while Brad waited for the results.

  ‘Holy shit, that was quick!’ Greta said when Brad announced he had the winning names.

  ‘Finishing in fifth place …’ Ray felt Greta’s hand on his arm again. His eyes were focused on Billie. Her eyes searched the crowd once more, and when she saw him, she smiled back.

  Then Brad got to third place. ‘It’s number twenty-four, Billie Haley, from Cawker City.’ He placed a bronze statue at her feet.

  Ray and Greta jumped to their feet and began to cheer. She’d done it! They made their way backstage to find Billie, who had put a silk robe on and was guzzling down a bottle of water.

  ‘Congratulations!’ Greta said.

  ‘I didn’t win.’

  ‘You came third! That’s incredible,’ Ray said. ‘And you looked beautiful up there.’

  ‘I’m in awe,’ Greta said. ‘Truly.’

  ‘I wanted it so bad. I put every ounce of everything I had into this. And now it’s over. I feel a bit … deflated.’

  ‘You can try again next year?’ Ray said.

  ‘No. This is me done. The judges went for bigger girls in the end. First and second had much greater muscle definition than me. I don’t think I can ever compete with that.’

  ‘I think this is the first time I’ve ever heard someone complain about losing to a bigger woman,’ Greta said. ‘If this helps, I reckon one of my thighs is bigger than your waist.’