by Agatha Frost
Julia hurried into the office, grateful for Russell’s humour. Out of drag and with a clean face, Julia could see how classically handsome he was. Despite his earlier remark about looking double his age, he was faring better than some forty-two-year-olds Julia had met.
“Welcome to my drag den,” Russell said before walking over to a tall cupboard labelled ‘hairdryers’. “People kept stealing them because they were pretty and pink.”
Julia accepted the glowing hairdryer as she looked around the room. Even though it functioned as some sort of office, it was evidently much more than that. One of the walls was covered entirely in shelves packed with wigs on plastic heads, every style and shade of the rainbow represented. The opposite wall had two long rails, one on top of the other, both crammed floor to ceiling with sparkly gowns and flamboyant costumes. Bright makeup cluttered the counter on the far wall, which had a vanity mirror with similar lights to those that outlined the door outside. In the soft glow, Julia’s skin looked more perfect than she had ever seen it. Russell appeared behind her and pulled up her brows slightly.
“I knew it,” he said with a confident nod. “You’d suit a sharp wing. You have the bones for it, dear. Not everyone does. You are really beautiful, Julia. I can tell you have a face that can take makeup.”
“I never really wear it,” Julia admitted as she looked at herself in the mirror. “A little mascara and maybe a lip tint if I’m in the mood.”
“But you’d look utterly gorgeous!” Russell announced, pushing her into a chair in front of the mirror. “You must let me paint you, dear. Nay! I insist! It’s an hour until show time, which gives me half an hour to play.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary,” Julia said with a shake of her head. “I really appreciate the offer, but -”
Julia attempted to stand up, but Russell pushed her back into the chair and spun her away from the mirror. He had a playful smirk that made her feel like he was plotting a devious plan.
“It wasn’t a question, dear,” Russell replied as he clipped Julia’s wet hair away from her face. “It’s just dirt with pigments. If you don’t like it, you can wash it off. I might paint myself like a clown, but I do know my way around a woman’s face. I gave makeovers at a department store for years on the side before buying this place.”
Russell applied light moisturiser before squirting pale foundation onto a glass palette. He bounced the product around her face with a pink sponge before setting it with dusty white powder. Without the aid of the mirror, she could only imagine what he was doing to her face, and even though he had assured her he knew what he was doing, she could see the half-finished exaggerated face that had greeted her on arrival that afternoon.
Like an artist working on a painting, Russell danced brushes across her face, pausing to assess his work. He worked at whirlwind speed, switching between products, his smile widening as he grew closer and closer to completing his masterpiece. After pulling up her brows to apply eyeshadow, he skilfully gave her a coat of mascara before gluing on false lashes.
“Do they always feel this heavy?” Julia asked as she blinked, suddenly more aware of her eyes than she ever had been.
“You should try wearing mine,” he replied as he outlined her lips with lipstick. “I stack four pairs. They could kick up a wind stiff enough to rid Blackpool beach of its sand. Pout for me, dear.”
Julia did as she was told. Russell nodded his satisfaction and stepped back with a pleased grin. He squirted something from a bottle all over her face before popping open a hand fan with a flourish and wafting her skin. When he was satisfied, he spun her around in the chair.
“You don’t have to close your eyes,” he said as he spread something through her still damp hair. “Just have a look and be honest.”
Julia opened her eyes, uncertain of what she was going to see. She stared ahead at the mirror, her eyes instantly darting up to Russell, his pleased grin growing. Instead of seeing a clown, she saw the face of a striking 1940s star.
“There are wipes on the side if you want to do your own thing,” Russell said as he plugged in the hairdryer. “I just like to play.”
Julia looked at the wipes, but she had no intention of wiping it off; she never wanted to take it off. As Russell blow-dried her hair, she edged closer to the mirror. Her skin looked fresh but had angles she had never seen before. Her cheeks glowed in an ethereal way, as did her sparkly eyelids. Her brows had somehow taken on a near-perfect shape, as had her lips. Even though she could feel the lashes, they looked natural in the mirror.
“I don’t know what to say,” Julia said, turning her head from side to side. “I’ve never seen myself like this before. I look –”
“Beautiful,” Russell called over the sound of the hairdryer. “That’s the word you’re looking for, dear. I said to myself, ‘Russell, paint her like she’s a young Hedy Lamarr’.”
“Hedy Lamarr?”
“A 1940s Austrian film star,” Russell said. “She was incredibly beautiful. She married six times, but she died alone and a recluse, a telephone her only means of communication with the outside world. Probably for the best because she turned to plastic surgery to preserve her looks and ended up looking like a melted Barbie doll, but isn’t that always the way? Quite a fabulous woman.”
“She sounds like a character.”
“She was,” Russell replied with a distant smile. “Sometimes I feel like I’m destined to become her, but I think most drag queens do. It’s our curse to be filled with pointless pop culture knowledge, and yet we rarely have people to share it with when we’re not entertaining on the stage. Not many people can look past the art form to see the person underneath.”
Julia was troubled to hear that someone so focussed on entertaining other people could feel so alone, especially in a full B&B. She was drawn to Russell in a way she had not expected to be from their first meeting. She liked him, and she could sense his goodness as well as his sadness.
The minutes passed by as he finished blow-drying her hair into perfect waves. He applied some hairspray and something to make it shiny before declaring that he was finished. As Julia stared at herself in the mirror, she could barely believe she was looking at her own reflection.
“I look like my mother,” Julia said, her voice barely above a whisper. “People always said I looked like her, but I never really saw it until now.”
“Your mother must also have been beautiful.”
“You’re a wizard!” Julia was unable to look away from herself. “I can’t believe you did all of this in half an hour.”
“Fifty minutes, actually,” he said after checking his watch. “Which leaves me ten to get ready.”
“Oh,” Julia said as she got out of his seat. “I’m sorry, I didn’t –”
“Don’t apologise! You were my beauty hostage, and it was worth every second. I’ll just do my quick face. Dark eyes and I’ll grab a wig with a fringe. I’m the host, so people’s eyes will be turned to the stage.” Russell sat down and started to run a stick foundation across his face. “Now that I’ve chewed your ear off, you’ll want to get back to your fiancé. He’ll be thinking I kidnapped you.”
Julia nodded and turned to walk away, but she remembered what Russell had said about rarely having anyone to talk to outside of his drag world.
“I’d quite like to see how you do your face,” Julia said, trying to sound as casual as possible. “Maybe I can pick up a few tips?”
“You don’t want to copy any of my tips,” Russell pulled up a stack of crates next to his chair, draped a pink glittery piece of fabric across it, and patted for Julia to sit. “Do you like piña coladas?”
4
Two piña coladas, two mystery pink shots, and half an hour later, Julia walked as smoothly as she could along the corridor to her room. Russell transformed into Lulu Suede before they had finished their first cocktail, but he pushed show time back and persuaded Honey to play another round of drag bingo to ease the crowd.
Realising she had
been gone for well over an hour, Julia pried open the door, not wanting to startle Barker. To her surprise, he was still by the window in his towel, pen scribbling in his journal.
“Sorry I took so long,” Julia said, trying to hide that she was a little tipsy. “Russell offered to do my makeup and hair.”
“Huh?” Barker mumbled, his pen still gliding across the paper. “Sorry. I had an idea. I had to write it down before it vanished.” Barker glanced up at Julia, but he quickly returned to his work. “You look nice.”
Julia pulled out a daring red dress she had never worn. It had been a Christmas present from her sister, who had a habit of buying her glamorous clothes she never had a use for. She had only packed it on a whim. After grabbing underwear from her case, she ripped the tags off the dress and disappeared into the bathroom with instructions for Barker to get ready. Five minutes later, she emerged feeling like a new woman.
“Blooming heck, Julia!” Jessie cried when Julia knocked on her bedroom door. “You are Julia, aren’t you? You look like you were abducted by aliens.”
“I think she’s trying to say you look gorgeous,” Alfie offered from behind his sister. “New dress?”
“It’s just a little something,” Julia said, brushing down the front, unsure of how she felt about how tight it was. “Should I change?”
“No!” Jessie and Alfie replied in unison.
Barker joined them after finally dressing. He locked the door and turned to Julia, taking in her transformation for the first time without the distraction of writing. He opened and closed his mouth, a small throaty sound escaping. Alfie slapped him on the shoulder as he walked past, and Jessie shook her head.
“Has anyone ever told you that you look just like Hedy Lamarr?” Barker asked, the words sounding foreign as they left his mouth. “Before the scary plastic surgery.”
“That’s surprisingly not the first time I’ve heard that today,” Julia said, arching a brow as she looked sceptically at Barker. “How do you know who Hedy Lamarr is?”
“My mum was obsessed with the black and white movies,” Barker said, his eyes dancing up and down the red dress. “Did you know Hedy invented Bluetooth and Wi-Fi technology in the 1940s during the Second World War?”
“I didn’t,” Julia said, impressed by the fact. “You’re full of surprises, Barker Brown.”
Holding her head high, Julia let Barker lead her down the hallway to the lift where Alfie and Jessie were waiting. After descending to the ground floor, they walked through the full restaurant. This time, she garnered slightly different looks than the ones she had got when walking through in a pink dressing gown with wet hair. Julia knew it was an illusion that would vanish when she showered later, but for now, she felt worlds apart from that woman who had been in search of a hairdryer. As she walked towards the cabaret bar with all eyes on her, she understood the appeal of transforming oneself into a new person entirely.
The bar was themed similarly to their bedroom. A grand stage with a single spotlight and red velvet backdrop commanded attention. Honey was on a stool in the spotlight pulling bingo balls from a basket and announcing them unenthusiastically. Small tables with candle lamps filled the space all the way to the bar at the back of the room. The place was packed out, with all tables full apart from one table at the front with a ‘RESERVED’ sign. Julia was about to walk over to the back when Russell, now dressed as Lulu Suede, caught her eye from the DJ booth and nodded at the one remaining table.
Feeling like she had made a friend in Russell and Lulu, Julia appreciatively took the table. As though someone up on high had read her mind, a tray with four sparkler-topped piña coladas appeared. When Jessie reached out for one, Julia arched one of her defined brows.
“I’m on holiday!” Jessie cried, taking a sip of the frothy cocktail before anyone could snatch it off her. “And I’m eighteen on Friday! One week until I’m legal to drink. You’re not going to make me drink pop for the sake of a week, are you?”
“You couldn’t get served at a bar,” Alfie reminded her. “That week makes the difference.”
“And I’m an ex-detective inspector,” Barker said, winking at Julia before frowning at Jessie. “Do you think I can sit by and let this happen?”
Jessie’s mouth opened as though she was about to launch into a squabble, but they burst out laughing, causing her cheeks to darken.
“I don’t even want it now anyway,” she muttered, folding her arms. “Tastes like a rubbish pineapple milkshake.”
Despite Jessie’s protests, she finished the drink along with the rest of them. Julia trusted her, and she was under no illusion that it was Jessie’s first alcoholic drink. She knew Jessie was sensible, and they were on holiday after all. After ordering their second round of drinks from a handsome waiter in a bowtie, the lights dimmed. Julia looked to Lulu in her booth next to the stage as she picked up a microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Sparkles by the Sea’s world-famous nightly cabaret show!” Lulu announced, her voice travelling through the speakers dotted about the club. “My name is Lulu Suede. Why ‘Suede’ I hear you ask? Because suede is softer than leather, and I’m as soft as they come, just don’t get too close or you’ll see the stubble poking through the spackled-on makeup on my chin. Do you know what hot new tool drag queens are using to apply their makeup? A trowel.” Lulu paused for a smattering of laughter. “I’d recommend it, ladies. It gets the job done in seconds, and by the looks of it, some of you need a little extra help tonight.” Lulu paused again, the laughter growing. “I won’t apologise for being late. I was having a cosmetic procedure done out back. I asked the surgeon to turn back the hands of time, but instead, he gave me a face that could stop the clocks.” Lulu pressed something on the laptop under the booth, and a ba dum tss! drum sting crackled through the speakers. “Thank you, thank you! That’s about the standard of jokes you’re going to get tonight, so I’d suggest grabbing the nearest waiter and asking for a strong drink. I hope you’re all strapped in and ready for an amazing night of cabaret. Our first act is so old, they’ve cancelled her blood type, her last cake had more candles than actual cake, and when she was at school, they didn’t have history lessons because nothing had actually happened yet. She says she’s still got it, but it’s a question of if anyone actually wants to see it, and I know I don’t. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome and a loud round of applause, especially because I’ve turned off her hearing aids, for Blackpool’s very own prehistoric fossilised specimen, Feather Duster!”
Applause and laughter erupted around the room as Feather Duster shuffled into the spotlight where Honey’s bingo stool was waiting for her. She flashed Lulu a grin, letting everyone know the teasing was in good fun. Under the makeup and costume, it was hard to determine the drag queen’s true age, but Julia would have guessed whoever was under the costume was past retiring age. A piano track started, and Feather performed a beautiful rendition of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.
As Julia watched Feather sing, she was transported to another era. Feather’s weathered and mature voice provided a grit that reminded Julia of Judy Garland’s later years. When Feather started When You Wish Upon a Star, the whole audience, including those at Julia’s table, was right behind her. Jessie and Alfie both shared the same captivated expression as Feather sang, as did Barker. Moon River came next, followed by Let's Call The Whole Thing Off, and finally, Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend, for which Feather stood up and shimmied around the stage. When it came time for her final bow, the vigorous applause that consumed the room was almost deafening. Feather shuffled off the stage as though it was nothing more than a day at the office, making Julia wonder if the person under the makeup even knew what kind of talent they had.
As the applause eased and Lulu lifted the mic up to her mouth, there was a brief moment of silence. In the quiet, Julia heard shrill, raised voices coming from behind the stage area. She glanced at Lulu who seemed to have heard it too, but being the professional that she was, sh
e pressed a button, and soft background music drowned it out.
“Wasn’t that beautiful?” Lulu called, her eyes looking beyond the curtain thanks to her vantage point in the raised booth. “I’m afraid that was Feather Duster’s final performance. The grim reaper is waiting backstage to drag her off to the underworld, and it’s long overdue if you ask me. I was the one who called him. I did call The Pope first to perform an exorcism, but he said this case was beyond even his powers. The demon within our poor old Feather Duster has too strong a hold on her, but at least it's operating her corpse for your entertainment. Of course, I’m joking, ladies and gentlemen. Feather Duster will, of course, be back tomorrow night and every night here at Sparkles by the Sea. She’s the original Sparkle Girl. She’ll out-live us all and still be here with Cher and the cockroaches after the inevitable and impending nuclear war.”
Lulu paused for another drum sting, not that it was necessary. The crowd cackled along with her jokes, no doubt thanks to the flowing alcohol. Julia looked down at her empty glass, wondering how many piña coladas she had so far enjoyed.
“And now we go from one end of the age spectrum to the other,” Lulu announced after a pause to sip her drink. “If Feather Duster was born just after The Big Bang, I’d say our next performer was born…” Lulu checked her watch. “…about five minutes ago. She’s barely out of nappies, and she’s only just said her first word, but that’s not stopping her throwing on a wig to get out here to perform for you tonight. If she looks a little dazed and confused it’s because her brain hasn’t fully developed yet. You’ve heard the stereotypes about today’s kids being entitled, lazy, and stupid, and our next performer is here to prove they’re all absolutely true. Put your hands together for Honey!”
Honey strutted onto the stage in a pair of impossibly tall heels, dragging a metal chair behind her. She glared at Lulu, not seeming to have the same sense of humour as Feather. She was wearing the same orange mullet as before, but she had painted her entire face pink with white dots everywhere. It was a striking and beautiful look, even if the message was lost on Julia. She barely resembled a woman like the other queens, her image appearing to bend and blur the lines between genders.
