Strictly My Husband: It's funny, it's romantic and it's got dancing - what's not to love!

by Tracy Bloom

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And your mum and dad came to join us on the Saturday.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘They lied. They’d arrived on the Friday night whilst we were out. They just pretended they’d arrived on the Saturday because they were too embarrassed to admit they’d had to spend all night listening to us shagging.’

  ‘Wow,’ replied Tom, reeling.

  ‘Point is I’m not getting any. I either need to hire a hit man for the damn dog or get my wife out of the country and neither is looking likely at the moment. Now, will you tell me what the name of that brunette is?’

  Chapter Eighteen

  Laura

  Laura pulled her skirt down and recrossed her legs, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of nylon against nylon between her thighs. Why on earth had she decided to wear a short skirt and her new knee-high leather boots, thus making it unavoidable that she wear tights? She knew it was inevitable that the crotch would end up halfway down her thighs whilst the waistband would remain determined to hang on just beneath her breasts. Both unattractive and uncomfortable. Why was she putting herself through this?

  She looked up as a couple of brightly uniformed young lads strolled through the reception of Wonderland totally ignoring her. She pulled her skirt down over her knees again. She was embarrassed that she’d made such an effort for her meeting but it was all part of her attempt to spruce up her image in retaliation to the glamour that Carly had bought to the house. After Tom’s rejection and her late-night chat with Hannah, Laura had headed back to bed with the intention of waking her husband up and demanding the services of his body. But when she’d looked in the bathroom mirror and caught sight of her wine-stained teeth and hideous tangled mass of hair she’d convinced herself that waking him would only lead to another knock-back. Instead she’d vowed to ‘glam up’, and promptly went out and purchased knee-high boots and a short skirt but so far they had not had the desired effect on her husband.

  She sighed and looked at her watch. Archie from Guest Happiness was running ten minutes late. She could have predicted that. When she’d spoken to him on the phone she’d realised very fast that Archie was probably not the type of client she was used to dealing with. She actually wouldn’t normally have come to this meeting, she would have sent her assistant as it was all very straightforward and Laura was used to dealing with more senior clients. However, for some reason she felt compelled to be involved and as she lived so close to the theme park it made logistical sense for her to call in on her way home to have a quick meeting and work out the details.

  ‘Hiya,’ said a lad leaping into view. She’d met plenty of Archies when she’d worked here before. Young lads whose dream-come-true was to work at Wonderland. Keen, enthusiastic, lovely, totally on another planet and totally clueless. He was a car crash from head to toe. The badly dyed jet-black hair didn’t suit his pale skin and served only to draw attention to his acne-ridden face. He was wearing a shirt and tie no doubt in an effort to make him look older than twelve but the gravy stain down the front gave away that he was barely out of bibs. He had every reason to be miserable and yet he wasn’t. The truly beautiful and truly ugly should not be allowed to be happy, thought Laura. It’s the middle-of-the-roaders like me who need the happiness. The pretty ones don’t need it and the ugly ones just make you feel bad because they have dealt with their shortcomings way better than you have.

  ‘Welcome to Wonderland,’ announced Archie. ‘Your happy place.’

  Laura already wanted to punch him.

  She stood up and smoothed down her too-short skirt. Archie’s youth and exuberance made her feel like a sad old desperate cow.

  ‘So I’ve booked Laughter for our meeting.’ Archie grinned. ‘Chuckles was free but Laughter has a much nicer feel to it even though everyone says that you can’t beat Chuckles for successful one-on-one. Follow me.’

  Laura’s heart sank. Either he fancied himself as a bit of a comedian, or he’d been on some dubious substances around the back of the Cantering Carousel. She tramped down a long dark corridor watching the black curls on the back of his neck bounce over his stained collar.

  ‘Would you like a coffee?’ he shouted over his shoulder about halfway down.’

  ‘Yes please,’ she replied on autopilot.

  He abruptly turned left into a small kitchenette as Laura paused awkwardly by the door. She watched as he picked a mug out of the washing-up bowl and switched on the cold tap. He swirled water around inside it then banged the mug down on the counter without drying it.

  ‘Do you take milk?’ he asked. ‘I’ve run out but I can nick someone else’s. No one minds if it’s for a guest.’

  ‘I’ll have it black,’ replied Laura.

  ‘Sugar?’

  ‘OK,’ she said slowly, worried that she might be leading him into further theft.

  ‘We share the coffee and sugar,’ he said, pouring boiling water into the mug and then adding the coffee powder afterwards. ‘How many?’

  ‘Just one,’ replied Laura, mesmerised.

  Archie extracted the spoon and plunged it straight into the sugar bowl. It emerged with damp, claggy, coffee-stained sugar clinging to it. After a vigorous stir he tapped the rim of the mug with the spoon and hurled it into the washing-up bowl.

  ‘Shall we go and make ourselves comfortable in Laughter?’ he said, smiling and shaking his head as though amazed by his mirth. ‘We’ve renamed the meeting rooms. They used to be numbered but now we have Laughter, Joy, Happiness, Chuckles and Giggles. Cool, hey?’

  ‘Genius,’ said Laura, following him down another dark corridor at the end of which it seemed unlikely there would be anything approaching laughter, joy, happiness, chuckles or giggles.

  They eventually entered a beige room, with beige carpet and beige chairs and a beige table, which instantly made you feel quite depressed. Blu-Tacked to the door was a sheet of A4 paper with a large pair of red lips on it and underneath ‘LAUGHTER’ spelt out in capital letters.

  Laura sat down and tucked her new shiny boots under her chair, as far away from Archie as possible. She pulled a notebook and pen out of her bag.

  ‘So?’ she said, looking expectant. ‘You said on the phone that you needed a piece of bespoke research formulating to monitor the effectiveness of the Malice in Wonderland Halloween Show.’

  Archie nodded enthusiastically but said nothing.

  ‘OK,’ said Laura, writing Give me strength at the top of her piece of paper. ‘So do you have any particular measurement in mind?’

  ‘Not really. We just want to know if it’s any good or not, which of course it will be because everything we do at Wonderland is utterly amazing.’

  ‘OK,’ Laura said again, writing Shoot me now on the next line down.

  ‘I know,’ Archie squeaked, looking very pleased with himself. ‘Why don’t we ask if watching the show makes them happy!’

  ‘Happy?’ asked Laura.

  ‘Yes.’ Archie nodded vigorously. ‘It’s one of our brand objectives. To make everyone happy. We aim to be the leading family brand for happiness.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Laura. ‘Just not sure if the right way to judge a Halloween show is how happy it makes you.’

  ‘Mmmm,’ said Archie, frowning for the first time.

  ‘Might I suggest that we keep it simple? That we ask the same sort of questions that we use on the overall park survey.’

  Archie was still frowning.

  ‘We could ask people to rate the show out of ten just as we do for all the other attractions. Then we will at least have something to compare it to.’

  Archie nodded.

  ‘We could also ask people if they would recommend the show to other visitors. That can be an effective way of asking in a different way if they enjoyed it.’

  Archie nodded again.

  ‘What about asking if having a show is more likely to make them come back to visit next Halloween?’

  Archie continued to silently nod.

  ‘So shal
l we do all that then?’ asked Laura.

  ‘Sounds brilliant. Great. Look forward to seeing the results,’ Archie said, getting up as if to leave.

  ‘Whoa,’ cried Laura. She couldn’t believe it. That wasn’t a meeting. It was a mother telling her son how to do his homework. She took a deep breath. ‘You need to tell me who you want asking, how many you want to ask, when you want it doing, when you want the results, all that sort of stuff.’

  ‘Oh, we will need the results straight away,’ replied Archie. ‘My boss said Phillip was very clear about that. Like immediately. Head Office are coming up or something so it’s really important.’

  ‘Right. So it’s really important we get this right then, isn’t it?’

  ‘Of course.’ Archie looked at his watch. ‘But you can sort all that out, right? That’s what a research agency does, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, but I need you to be absolutely clear on what you want or else we could do the research and it would be a total waste of money,’ she said, feeling exasperated. She watched as Archie’s eyes widened in fear. ‘If you tell me the wrong thing or if what we agree here doesn’t give Head Office the information they want then all there will be to show for it is a bill from us. Not sure anyone would be impressed with that, are you?’

  Archie looked at his watch again, then nervously up at Laura. He wasn’t smiling now.

  He swallowed. ‘What do you think we should do?’ he almost whispered.

  ‘I think we should pretend this meeting never happened,’ she replied, closing her notebook emphatically. ‘I’ll email your boss with a draft set of questions first thing in the morning with a suggestion of how it should be administered.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Archie nodded eagerly.

  ‘Now would you be kind enough to take me to where the show is being staged so I can assess where the researchers might stand.’

  ‘OK,’ he muttered, his attention drawn to his watch again.

  ‘Don’t worry, you don’t have to wait with me,’ she said, putting her notebook in her bag and getting up. ‘Just let me on to the park and then you can go and meet your girlfriend.’

  ‘What!’ he said, jerking his head up. ‘How do you know I’m meeting my girlfriend?’

  ‘Your aftershave is, er . . . very present, and you keep checking your watch. And guys like you always have a girlfriend. I bet she’s just like you too,’ she said.

  Archie blushed. ‘People do say that we are like peas in a pod,’ he admitted. ‘We do everything together.’

  ‘Does she work here?’ asked Laura, already knowing the answer.

  ‘Oh yes,’ said Archie. ‘We get to work together and at Wonderland, the best place on earth. It’s brilliant.’

  She smiled at him. She envied him. She wished her life were that simple and that she were that happy.

  Five minutes later Archie had let her through a side door and then scurried off to meet his girlfriend. He’d told her she was called Delilah, was utterly bonkers (obviously), almost as bonkers as him (obviously), and they were meeting in the Enchanted Forest area of the park to take photographs of each other sitting on the giant toadstools which they were then going to turn into their joint Christmas card.

  ‘We’re dressing up as elves,’ he’d reassured her when she gave him a concerned look.

  ‘Oh, right,’ said Laura. ‘I get it now. That’s just so hysterical.’

  ‘I know. We’re going to have such a laugh. It was Delilah’s idea. She is proper mental.’

  Laura nodded. ‘She must be.’

  ‘Well, she’d have to be to put up with me!’ Archie laughed.

  They’d had an awkward handshake that somehow moved into a polite peck-on-the-cheek moment. She watched him stride off in the direction of the Enchanted Forest. Oh to be young again and thrilled to be taking pictures of each other dressed up as midgets.

  It was already getting dark as she made her way along the pathway towards the main guest entrance to the park. She felt overwhelmed with nostalgia as she passed the Haunted House, which was, as far as she was concerned, the most romantic place on earth. It had been the end of the summer season and the last day of her contract before she returned to university. Her shoulder had been well and truly soaked by Tom as he’d grieved for his lost relationship with Natalie. They’d taken to going to the pub for a quick drink after work where Tom would sit nursing a pint going over and over the break-up, trying to make sense of it whilst Laura patiently listened, stretching out her vodka lime and soda for as long as possible. She didn’t mind hearing about Natalie night after night. Anything to spend time with him. Anything to see her thigh sit alongside his; anything to have the chance to gaze at his perfect face, which gave her goose bumps if he ever deigned to flash a smile. She didn’t feel used, she felt like the luckiest girl alive. She was sitting having a drink with Tom Mackintyre. She was the chosen one he was pouring his heart out to – who cared if his heart was full of someone else.

  After a couple of weeks of melancholy moan-fests in the snug of the Green Man, Laura chanced her arm at lightening the mood. The grief appeared to be drying up slightly; the anguish was coming out at a drip rather than a gush, leaving the odd opportunity in conversation to talk about something else.

  ‘By the way,’ she’d said casually one night, when they’d sat in silence for a few moments, ‘have you heard about Rob?’

  ‘Who’s Rob?’ he asked.

  ‘You know Rob – he runs the Pirates of the Cajun Chicken restaurant over in Stormy Seas Land.’

  ‘Oh yeah.’ Tom looked totally uninterested.

  ‘Well, his boss told him he wasn’t getting enough customers and he should think about having a Jack Sparrow lookalike outside to attract people in.’

  ‘Right,’ said Tom, barely nodding.

  ‘Well, Rob is such a doughnut, all he heard was “sparrow”, so he went to Wardrobe to ask if he could borrow a bird costume. They only had a giant yellow budgie so Rob put it on to give it a try and managed to push over a child by mistake. The dad went ballistic apparently and punched the budgie to the ground. So Rob’s boss walks by and instead of Jack Sparrow outside the restaurant there’s a budgie flat on its back, acting dead.’

  ‘Oh my God,’ said Tom, his eyes wide, an inkling of a smile at the corner of his mouth. ‘What I would have paid to see that!’

  ‘I took a picture,’ said Laura, quickly getting her phone out of her pocket. She leant into him so he could see the tiny screen and the photo of three men in park uniform crowding around an enormous yellow bird outside a pirate-themed restaurant.

  ‘That’s hilarious,’ he said, grinning for the first time in ages. ‘You could make a whole show with a giant yellow bird appearing in really odd places. Can you imagine?’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ agreed Laura. ‘It would be like a real life Where’s Wally.’

  Tom paused for a moment, looking at Laura. She self-consciously ran her tongue over her teeth in case she had lipstick on them.

  ‘You are brilliant,’ said Tom, his face suddenly lighting up. ‘Do you know what we could do?’

  ‘What?’ asked Laura.

  ‘Not sure it would work though,’ he said, his smile disappearing.

  ‘What, what, tell me,’ begged Laura.

  ‘Well, we could do Where’s Wonderbear. Rather than your normal meet-and-greet type stuff, which is so boring now, we could set up a game of Where’s Wonderbear for kids when they arrive. Give them a clue sheet or something and they have to write down every time they see Wonderbear. We could be totally random and pick really weird places so they think it’s really funny.’

  ‘Like posing with the statues in the gardens or pretending to be a dinosaur in the T-Rex Terror ride?’

  ‘Or acting dead in the Haunted House, then suddenly coming alive like some weird bear zombie,’ he added, looming over her with scary eyes.

  ‘Cool,’ shrieked Laura.

  ‘Then we could do a meet and greet at the end of the day and all the kids could come an
d tell me where they’d seen me and I’d shake my head like this.’

  Tom shook his head in an I’m-amazed fashion. Laura could only imagine how good Tom would be at acting like a bear in denial.

  ‘Let’s tell Bill tomorrow,’ he said, grasping Laura’s hands. Laura stared down at his hands over hers and then looked up.

  ‘Yes, let’s. I can show him the photo of the dead bird to give him an idea of what we mean.’

  ‘This is going to be hilarious,’ he said, wrapping his arms around her but then pulling back all too soon. ‘Can you come in early and bring your phone?’

  ‘I guess so,’ she replied when really she meant, of course, I will do anything you ask me to.

  ‘Let’s go round the park early with me as Wonderbear and take lots of Where’s Wally-style pictures to show Bill what we mean.’

  ‘Brilliant,’ replied Laura. ‘That’s a great idea.’

  Tom grinned. ‘Shall we go mad and have another drink and sit and think of the funniest places we can put Wonderbear in?’

  ‘Absolutely,’ agreed Laura. ‘Let’s not lose momentum now. We need to carry on with this until we’ve nailed it. It could be a long night.’

  Yes, they had a lot to thank Wonderbear for, thought Laura as she approached Tom, who was standing in front of the temporary stage at the exit to the park. It was five-thirty and the park was deserted having shut at four now that the nights were drawing in. Suddenly the park music went off and all that could be heard was the low rumble of generators powering spotlights that flooded the stage with light. Laura didn’t really need to see the area in order to put together her research proposal but she’d promised Tom she’d call in and say hello and tell him how the meeting had gone. Not that there was anything to tell him other than Archie really should use deodorant.

  ‘Where’s Wonderbear?’ roared Tom as she walked up behind him. Wonderbear didn’t appear on the empty stage. Tom turned to say something to Amy, who was standing next to him. He didn’t look happy.

  ‘I will ask one more time,’ Tom shouted at the top of his angry voice towards the stage. ‘Where’s Wonderbear?’

  ‘Maybe he’s playing dead in the Haunted House – or he could be peeping out of the photo booth at the top of the last drop on the Log Flume?’ offered Laura from right behind him.