The Desperate Bride’s Diet Club

by Alison Sherlock

  She still felt that way after two years of dating.

  And here he was, the love of her life, standing in front of her.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he asked. ‘I beg of you.’

  Violet stepped forward into the rain and let him sweep her into his arms.

  ‘I’m an idiot,’ he muttered into her hair. He was an inch shorter than Violet but she was able to snuffle into his shoulder if she stooped a little.

  ‘That’s OK,’ she said, inhaling the expensive scent on his neck.

  And perhaps it was, in a way. Had she forgiven him? She didn’t care. She just wanted to be with him. Nothing else mattered.

  He drew away and held her shoulders. ‘It will never happen again,’ he said.

  And she believed him. She had to. He was all she had. She would do anything to keep him. Even forgive him for sleeping with another woman.

  ‘I’m sorry too,’ she told him as he finally drew away. ‘I’ll behave better. I won’t whinge as much. And I’m going to lose some weight.’

  He smiled. ‘Violet, darling. You’re my girl and I love you.’

  ‘I love you too,’ she replied.

  ‘But perhaps you should try not to nag me so much,’ Sebastian added. ‘It does upset me, you know.’

  Violet nodded. That was the answer. They would both try their best and everything would be OK.

  ‘Now, what about dinner? You must be starving.’

  Sebastian had booked a table for two at the Rajdoot. The Rajdoot produced the most wonderful Indian food imaginable. It was a trendy restaurant, frequented by smart go-getters like Sebastian who worked in the finance sector.

  Violet knew she wasn’t in his class. She would have loved to have worn a pretty dress like some of the other women but had stuck to black trousers, a batwing black top and a few bits of jewellery.

  They ordered their food and as the waiter went away, Sebastian raised his glass.

  ‘Here’s to us,’ he said, clinking the glasses together.

  Violet smiled back. He was at his most charming tonight. He was trying desperately to make amends, she knew.

  She was stuffing a poppadom into her mouth when she caught Sebastian looking at her and smiling. She quickly swallowed and tried to slow down her eating. She must have looked like a total pig, jumping on the food as soon as it arrived.

  But it was after the main course that she became certain Sebastian was acting strangely. He kept staring at her, with that odd grin on his face. Normally he chatted away about his work or the football matches he had seen. His life was always fascinating to her. But tonight he was silent, just watching her.

  She began to fret. Something was different. Something was wrong.

  After the waiter had taken the plates away, Sebastian cleared his throat. ‘I need to talk to you about something,’ he said.

  Violet felt sick. He was going to dump her. He was way out of her league. It was hopeless thinking that he would want to be with her. After all, that other girl must have been much better in bed than she could ever be.

  ‘Darling Violet,’ he said, his voice a little husky. ‘There’s something I want to ask you.’

  When he dropped to the floor, she thought he’d dropped his napkin. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

  He took her hand and smiled. It was then that she realised he was on one knee.

  ‘Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’ asked Sebastian.

  Violet gaped at him. Was this a joke? No, he was actually serious. He wanted them to be together. As man and wife. For ever.

  She glanced around and realised the whole restaurant was watching them. She looked down at Sebastian whose smile was beginning to fade.

  She realised she hadn’t given him a reply. ‘Yes!’ she said, trying not to cry. ‘Of course, yes!’

  Sebastian’s smile clicked back into place and the whole restaurant erupted into clapping and cheering. Violet’s cheeks burned with the attention, especially when he kissed her on the mouth in front of everyone.

  As the waiter brought out the puddings and two glasses of champagne, everyone was still chattering around them. But Violet was so happy, she didn’t even want the pudding.

  Back home and snuggled up on the sofa, she told him about the New You! leaflet.

  ‘You sure you want to pay out a load of money for some hippy spin?’ he said, popping a small chocolate egg into her mouth.

  ‘I really want to lose weight this time,’ she told him, between mouthfuls.

  ‘Of course you will, pumpkin. But you don’t have to, you know. You know how much I love your curves.’

  But her curves were increasing on a daily basis. She had risen from a size sixteen to almost size twenty-two since they had been together. If she became any larger, she knew he would stray again.

  Then he leaned forward and gave her a long, lingering kiss. The desperation was starting to recede. Once she got thin, he wouldn’t look at another woman. Once she was thin, she would be happy.

  ‘Let’s go to bed,’ he said in a husky voice.

  Violet nodded and followed him upstairs.

  But even after two years together, she was still embarrassed to be seen naked. So as he brushed his teeth in the bathroom, she quickly took off her clothes. Slipping between the covers, she tried to cover up the red welts from where her bra and waistband had been digging into the flesh.

  Sebastian came to stand by the bed and smiled at her.

  Violet smiled back and leaned over to switch off the bedside light.

  Chapter Four

  I HATE FAT people, thought Trudie Connolly. Why are they so lazy? Why don’t they just stop eating once they’re full? Perhaps all that flab affects their brain cells.

  She fixed on a smile. ‘Welcome to a New You!’ she said so loudly that her voice echoed around the church hall. ‘The weight-loss programme that can change your life! Have you got your form?’

  The paper was duly handed over. She quickly scanned the page. No health problems. No aches and pains. Yet. Just wait until they’d been through Trudie’s gruelling aerobics workout. Then they’d know pain.

  Her eyes sought out the name box on the form before she looked up.

  ‘Thank you, Violet. Now, for the first two weeks you get a nutritious shake for breakfast and lunch. It’s also interchangeable with a cereal bar for when you want something solid to eat. Follow the guidelines regarding dinner choices. You have to sign up for a year to make sure that you’re serious about losing weight. Do you want to pay by debit or credit card?’

  The payment duly handed over, Trudie smiled at Violet. ‘Why don’t you pop yourself up on the scales?’

  Then you’ll see how much damage has been done by those Krispy Kreme doughnuts you’ve been scoffing all day, thought Trudie.

  She glanced down at the scales. ‘You’re fifteen stone.’

  She gave the girl her best pity smile. Not that she deserved any pity, the great porker.

  Trudie knew the type. No self-esteem, eats her way through the kitchen most nights in total misery. Never gonna get a man. Ever. Hates looking at herself in the mirror. Probably spends all her time playing games on the computer.

  But a flash of something on Violet’s left hand caught Trudie by surprise. She was engaged? Who the hell was gonna marry this big lump?

  ‘I see someone’s getting married,’ said Trudie, in her smoothest voice.

  Violet nodded, her face blushing.

  Shame really, thought Trudie. She could be quite pretty if you took all that flab away. Maybe if she got herself a decent haircut rather than that dark curtain flopping around her fat cheeks.

  ‘When’s the big day?’

  ‘Don’t know yet,’ came the mumbled reply.

  ‘Well, don’t worry. There’s plenty of time for you to slim down and fit into the most fabulous wedding dress you can find.’

  Shame they won’t do any in your size. It would create a world shortage in ivory silk.

  ‘Your target weight for your he
ight is around ten stone. That’s five stone to lose. That shouldn’t be any problem.’

  The expression on the woman’s face begged to differ.

  ‘Anyway, have a look through your welcome pack. It has all the details of the weight-loss programme in there. Please don’t hesitate to ask me if you have any questions. Good luck and welcome to a New You!’

  Trudie gave the girl her most brilliant smile as she shuffled away to plonk herself down on a nearby chair. Why bother with marriage when the groom is sure to run off with the prettier and thinner bridesmaid anyway?

  Lord, here comes another one. More smiling. ‘Welcome to a New You! Have you got your form?’

  ‘Here you go,’ came the cheerful reply.

  A woman in her early thirties was grinning at her. She had a jolly, round face with red cheeks and bright red lipstick. The face was shiny with exertion, no doubt from having to heave that enormous body around the hall. Her brown hair was scraped back into a ponytail, making the round face seem even larger.

  Trudie knew this type as well. Good-time girl, always up for a laugh. Probably smokes, definitely drinks too much. Loves her puddings and big roast dinners. Been around the block a couple of times.

  ‘Kathy, is it? Do you want to pay by credit or debit card?’

  ‘Do you run a trial? You know, where I could pay for a fortnight to see how I get on?’

  Trudie ground her teeth as she shook her head. ‘Sorry. It’s the whole year or not at all. You can pay by direct debit if you prefer.’

  I’m not running a bloody charity.

  ‘Step up on the scales for me, please.’

  Kathy gave a guffaw. ‘Knew I shouldn’t have had that third piece of cake this afternoon.’

  Trudie gave her a polite smile before gesturing for her to step down. ‘I make that seventeen stone exactly.’

  Kathy rolled her eyes and gave a snort of derision. ‘All bought and paid for!’

  ‘By my calculations, you should be around eleven stone for your height. How do you feel about that?’

  ‘I’ve about as much chance of hitting eleven stone as Brad Pitt declaring undying love for me.’ Another hearty guffaw.

  Trudie tried not to roll her eyes.

  ‘Let’s just aim for half a stone in the beginning and see how you get on, shall we? Here’s your welcome pack. It has all the details of the diet in there. Please don’t hesitate to ask me if you have any questions. Good luck and welcome to a New You!’

  You’ll go straight to the pub after this meeting and never return, I’ll bet.

  And here’s the next loser. Of the male variety this time. Still, no one ever said the fat curse was limited to women.

  ‘Welcome to a New You! Have you got your form?’

  ‘Yes,’ came the curt reply.

  The name on the form was Edward. Trudie had his number down, as well. Embarrassed to be here. His attendance at this meeting wasn’t going to come up next time he was down the pub with his mates, that’s for sure. And that was where he spent too much time before heading on to the kebab shop afterwards. He’ll enjoy watching every sport. But playing sport? With that beer belly? And those man boobs? Not a chance.

  So why was he here? Spotted a girl, probably. Some librarian who might give him a second look. After all, he was only in his early thirties, despite the bloated face and heavy jowls. Still time to spawn some fat kids and get a cholesterol problem.

  ‘Gosh, you’re twenty-one stone and three pounds,’ said Trudie. ‘You’re looking to lose at least eight stone to lose to achieve a healthy weight.’

  ‘Fine,’ came the short reply.

  This one wasn’t going to be a laugh a minute. But he might last a couple of meetings before giving up.

  ‘This is your welcome pack. It has all the details of the diet in there. Please don’t hesitate to ask me if you have any questions. Good luck and welcome to a New You!’

  Edward snatched the pack out of her hands and strode away.

  Whatever, mate. Enjoy a life alone.

  Sometimes it was an effort to get through a class, especially a new and untried one like this. It wasn’t as if the area was flourishing. But head office had told Trudie to give it a go.

  ‘Hello,’ said Trudie to the next person. ‘Do you have your form?’

  ‘Yes. Sorry.’ The woman was extremely flustered. ‘Put it in my handbag. Wasn’t thinking. Sorry. Here it is.’

  Welcome, Mrs Menopause, thought Trudie. No one ever warned you, did they? They told you about the mood swings and hot flushes. But the steady advance in weight? What was that all about? Your metabolism is grinding to a halt yet you’re still downing half a bottle of red wine a night and the same foods you’ve always eaten and bingo! Suddenly you’re twice the size you were five years ago.

  Yes, the country walks help but not if you go for a pub lunch afterwards. You hanker after your daughter’s miniskirts yet have to resort to elasticated waists and those big knickers to hold it in. No big knickers were large enough for this one.

  ‘Step on the scales for me, Maggie.’

  Maggie had an air of gloom about her. And that wasn’t going to improve once she faced up to her actual weight.

  ‘Sixteen stone and thirteen pounds. Nearly seventeen stone.’

  ‘What? It can’t be.’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  Maggie blew out a long sigh. ‘My scales back at home say sixteen and a half stone.’

  Trudie tried not to snap back at her. ‘Ours are the correct weight. I know it’s sometimes a bit of a shock but let’s take this negative and spin it into a positive, shall we?’

  ‘I didn’t think I was that heavy. I’ve never been that big before.’

  Wake up and smell your beloved sherry bottle, love. You’re overweight. Deal with it.

  ‘We’ll aim for eleven stone. This is your welcome pack. It has all the details of the diet in there. Please don’t hesitate to ask me if you have any questions. Good luck and welcome to a New You!’

  ‘This is Lucy,’ said Maggie, still sounding fed-up. ‘My daughter.’

  And now the fatties are coming by the household. Lucy was a mini-Maggie, but the attitude was all teen angst rather than menopausal hormones.

  ‘Hello, Lucy,’ said Trudie, grinning at her.

  Lucy’s blue eyes scowled back from under her brown fringe. She looked to be in her late teens and was reasonably fashionable. It was a shame that everything looked too tight, too stretched across her wobbly belly and large thighs.

  Trudie knew the form for this one, as well. A sedentary life growing up. Not much sport played or encouraged within the family. Too much time spent texting and on the computer. Wants to wear clothes from Top Shop but they don’t do size eighteen.

  ‘Up on the scales, Lucy.’

  Lucy darted her a look of pure evil. She was definitely only here because she’d been dragged along by her fat mother.

  ‘That’s twelve stone and two pounds.’

  Lucy bit her lip and said nothing.

  ‘Not to worry.’ Trudie put on her brightest smile. ‘We’ll get you looking great again in no time, especially once you hit your target of nine stone. This is your welcome pack. It has all the details of the diet in there. Please don’t hesitate to ask me if you have any questions. Good luck and welcome to a New You!’

  Lucy lumbered away with her mother following behind.

  If I was the father, I’d be keeping my head down tonight, thought Trudie. The forecast is for humming hormones and sulks a-plenty.

  Was that it? Was no one else coming tonight? It wasn’t as if there were any other weight-loss classes in the vicinity. So the pickings should be rich. Or not, looking at the class. A total of five, so far. This franchise was going to go bust before it had even got going.

  Trudie glanced at her watch. Almost half past. So, that was it. A total of five for the first class. Oh well. Time to get this show on the road.

  ‘OK,’ said Trudie, clapping her hands together and moving to th
e centre of the class. ‘Let’s settle down so we can get started.’

  Settle down? No one was even talking.

  ‘Well, good evening, ladies and our token gentleman.’ Trudie pasted on a large smile. ‘You have made an important decision to come here tonight. Possibly the most important you’ll ever make. For tonight you will be starting your epic voyage on the sea to a new beginning. As with all journeys, there will be hard parts. There may be some turbulence or perhaps even some seasickness but ultimately your arrival is what’s important. Your destination? Planet New You!’

  She’d been working all afternoon on that speech and the reaction. Not a thing. Not even a smirk. This class had all the excitement of a graveyard.

  ‘Now, I know it’s a shock when you first get weighed,’ said Trudie, attempting to drag some life into the proceedings. ‘But this is a brand-new class so everyone’s at exactly the same stage. In fact, at New You! we encourage you to cheer each other on. Celebrate your triumphs and share your disappointments.’

  Fatties of the world unite. God help me, how much longer before I can go home?

  ‘You’ve all got your welcome packs, in which you should find your diet booklet, a tape measure and a motivational DVD from Dr Ramsbottom, the founder of New You! Inside your diet booklet you’ll find a chart where you can discover your personal daily calorie allowance. This calorie allowance will help you achieve a healthy weight loss without going hungry. And I know what a struggle that can be!’

  Trudie gave them her false, tinkly laugh, but everyone was still dumbstruck. Perhaps they knew that she’d never been overweight in her life. The thought of being the same size as some of these people made her feel ill.

  ‘And then, at your weekly class, you’ll get weighed and we’ll check on your progress. Best of all, you’ll get a half-hour aerobics class with me each week to kick-start your weight loss!’

  Trudie, still wearing her wide grin, stared at everyone and they stared right back.

  ‘Normally I would now give you a small talk about tips for the week and how to keep on track but we seem to be running a bit behind, unfortunately. Not to worry, that just leaves more for next week!’