Who Needs Men Anyway?

by Victoria Cooke

  ‘Well, don’t you look fabulous tonight?’ Kate said, casting her eye over me. ‘Now don’t let me see you in that jumble of beige and pearls again – or at least not for another forty years.’ She flapped her hands in my general direction before catching sight of Megan, who was looking around the room and adjusting her dress around the chest.

  Before Megan had time to see the expression of horror creep across Kate’s face, I pursed my lips and shook my head at her, making sure she saw me. Kate waved a hand at me flippantly just before Megan turned back around to the table. All the arm-waving was starting to make me dizzy.

  ‘So, Megan, Charlotte told me all about your fiancé. I’m truly sorry. I do understand how hard it is.’ She leant across the table and patted Megan’s hand. To be fair to Kate, she almost did know, as her first husband had left her for another woman – but Kate wasn’t the type to sit around feeling sorry for herself, and I’d always felt the whole situation had been no more than a mild inconvenience to her.

  ‘Thank you,’ Megan replied quietly before returning to uncomfortable room-gazing.

  ‘Have you plotted your revenge yet?’ Kate drove her bulldozer right at Megan. I glared at her, and she shrugged as Megan turned back to us and shook her head. ‘No?’ Kate didn’t attempt to conceal her horror. ‘But it’s part of the moving-on process.’ Kate had gone in for the kill with her ex, making sure she squeezed as much money out of him as possible in the divorce settlement. In fairness, she had put her life on hold to be the ultimate ‘trophy wife’ for the seven years they’d spent together. Kate was on track to be some hotshot marketing person when she met Mr Money Bags and it was him who didn’t want a working wife – it wasn’t right for his image.

  I tried to soften the conversation as the waiter deposited our drinks on the table. ‘Kate, it’s just been a few days. Megan is still coming to terms with it all.’

  ‘It’s okay, Charlotte. I have already thought about it. Do I scratch his car, slash his tyres, or publicly humiliate him somehow?’ She sipped her champagne, and Kate cut in, misreading her defeatist tone.

  ‘Well, it’s a start, but I think we can do better than any of those things.’ Kate tapped her fingers on the table, pondering.

  Megan forced a smile. ‘I was just going to say that as I imagined doing those things, I couldn’t imagine feeling any better about myself or the situation. I’d probably feel petty and juvenile. I think I just want to focus on me for now.’

  For a brief moment, Kate was silenced.

  ‘Well, I think that sounds sensible.’ I raised my glass.

  ‘I think the best way to hurt him is to move on and try to rebuild my own happiness,’ Megan continued, and I nodded in agreement. ‘He’s already begged me to take him back. He still wants to go ahead with the wedding.’

  ‘The only thing he should be in church for is his own funeral,’ Kate said, scoffing. ‘We could work on that though.’ She winked.

  ‘I think murder is frowned upon.’ I shot Kate a look – not everyone got her dark sense of humour. ‘You’re right, though. If he thinks you’re moving on, it will really get to him.’ I took a sip of fizz, realising that despite the awful circumstance that brought us together, I was actually having a lovely evening with two people I really liked.

  ‘Maybe we could get you a hunky male escort to go tile shopping with,’ Kate said wickedly.

  ‘I’m not sure my finances would stretch to that – my bills are about to double.’ Megan glanced down at the table before looking back up. ‘Besides, I think Mike would see through it and I’d just look pathetic – our bathroom and kitchen are new.’

  ‘We could start with something simple to cheer you up, like a shopping trip or a makeover. My treat,’ Kate announced. I shot her a look, willing her to avoid mentioning Megan’s appearance. She understood my glare – and ignored it anyway. ‘We can revamp this dowdy look.’ She waved her hands in the general direction of Megan’s dress. ‘And show him what he’s missing.’

  We? I thought to myself. It appeared as though Kate had found us a new hobby.

  Megan glanced at us both sheepishly. ‘I couldn’t possibly take advantage of your generosity, Kate, but I wouldn’t mind a shopping trip to take my mind off things. A bit of an image overhaul and some style advice might be nice. You seem like you have plenty.’

  I put an arm around her in support. She was coping with Kate so well. I love Kate to bits, but she can be a bit much if you don’t know how to handle her.

  ‘So that’s a yes to shopping then?’ Kate pressed. Megan nodded. ‘To shopping!’ Kate raised a glass and we all clinked.

  ‘How about we meet up next Saturday, head into town, have a spot of lunch, and then grab a few drinks after?’ I suggested, glad of having something to look forward to.

  ‘I’d like that.’ For the first time that evening, Megan gave a genuine smile.

  ***

  We met outside Harvey Nichols at Kate’s request. I’d tried to suggest the Manchester Arndale, but Kate had pulled a face. While we waited for Megan to turn up, I warned her, ‘Megan hasn’t much money. You know she’s my personal trainer and Mike is a tile warehouse manager, so her bank account balance won’t come with six zeroes at the end like yours did after your divorce settlement.’

  ‘I said it would be my treat.’ Kate shrugged. Sometimes she was impossible.

  ‘Megan is proud. She won’t appreciate charity.’ I lowered my voice as Megan approached, walking heavily towards us. My unfounded motherly instinct kicked in, prompting me to dash over and give her a hug. ‘How are you?’ I asked, genuinely concerned.

  She sighed. ‘I’m coping.’

  ‘Let’s put a smile on your face then.’ Kate linked her arm through Megan’s and marched her through the doors to Harvey Nicks. The smell of luxurious perfume hit us as we walked in. I don’t know if it worked for Megan, but it gave me a sense of instant calm, putting me in the right frame of mind to spend some money.

  ‘What perfume do you wear?’ Kate asked Megan as we browsed the concessions.

  ‘I’ve worn the same perfume for years – Armani Code.’

  ‘That’s the first thing that needs to go. New you, new fragrance, otherwise you’ll be reminded of your old life with every squirt.’ She was already picking up bottles and sniffing them. ‘Now, if Mike still has clothes and things at your house, I suggest you use whatever you have left in the bottle to spray everything he owns. When he takes it all away he’ll have a lasting reminder of you.’ She ignored Megan’s confused expression and focused on stalking the counters, squinting at the beautiful little bottles and randomly casting her eye over Megan before coming to a halt at the Viktor & Rolf display. ‘You look like a Flowerbomb girl,’ she said, before engulfing Megan in a cloud of the candy-sweet perfume.

  Megan wafted her hand in front of her face, presumably trying to find some oxygen amidst the haze. ‘It’s a lovely smell,’ she said eventually before picking up the shiny, plump bottle. Then she gasped. ‘This bottle is a hundred quid!’ She placed it back on the shelf carefully, presumably embarrassed and petrified of breaking it.

  ‘Can I help you?’ a smartly dressed assistant asked as Kate continued her perusal, oblivious.

  I could sense Megan’s discomfort. ‘Did you like the perfume?’ I asked. Buying her a little gift would be the least I could do, and she had such a sweet innocence about her, I had to agree with Kate that Flowerbomb was a good choice.

  ‘I did, but I can’t spend that much money on it.’

  ‘We’ll take a large bottle of the eau de parfum, please,’ I said to the assistant, who nodded once and took one from the drawer. Megan looked at me, bewildered.

  ‘Please, let me treat you – as a thank you for all your personal training and for going above and beyond the call of duty, coming on a Sunday and accompanying me to the equipment shop.’ She took a deep breath but didn’t reply so I hoped she’d let me off the hook.

  The assistant handed the carrier bag over to Megan and she
turned to me before we walked over to Kate. ‘Thank you, but you really shouldn’t have. I would have bought it myself.’

  I gave her a small smile. ‘We’re here to cheer you up.’

  As we approached Kate, she was chatting to an immaculate brunette with her hair scraped back in a high ponytail. When Kate turned to face us, she had a huge grin on her face. ‘Girls, this is Lucinda and she’s going to give us all a makeover!’ I eyed Megan warily. The night out we’d had was probably the first time I’d seen her wear any make-up before; she was actually one of the few people I’d met who looked better without it.

  ‘I’ve never had a makeover before, unless you count my engagement party when Mike’s cousin doused me in her entire MAC collection and got offended when I washed it off.’ Her facial muscles dropped slightly at the memory, and I could tell she was trying hard to remain composed.

  ‘We can do something else?’ I said, rubbing her arm but she shook her head.

  ‘No, if I’m moving on, then I have to try new things. Let’s do this.’ She forced a smile before pausing. ‘Wait, how much is it?’

  ‘It’s a promo – it’s free, dear,’ Kate said with a smile.

  ‘Brilliant.’ Megan beamed and made a beeline to Lucinda who had walked over to the concierge desk.

  I pulled Kate aside, making sure Megan was out of earshot. ‘This isn’t free – it’s at least a hundred quid each.’

  ‘And the rest, but I’ve already paid, and didn’t your mother ever tell you that it’s nice to be nice, Charlotte?’ Kate grinned.

  After an hour of Lucinda picking out clothes for us, we each had an impressive pile of designer gear, which we tried on in between taking sips of champagne.

  ‘These are just to try on again after hair and make-up, right?’ Megan said, holding up a gorgeous Balmain leather jacket while eyeing the hefty price tag. Her eyes bulged.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Kate said with a laugh that I knew to be her fake one. ‘Now come on, it’s makeover time.’

  After our bouncy blow-dries and glamorous make-up, our own clothes didn’t do us justice.

  ‘Girls, we have to have at least one of those dresses!’ Kate said, dragging us back to the concierge desk. Megan shot me a worried look so I mouthed the words ‘don’t worry.’

  In the changing area, Lucinda had three garments each for us – the favourites we’d selected earlier on.

  ‘Oh, ladies, you all look fabulous,’ she gushed, taking in our hair and make-up. ‘I’ll go and get some drinks and nibbles; you ladies try everything on and we’ll have a look at you when you’re ready.’

  Megan came out first, wearing a navy, lace-trim, satin slip dress. It was simple but really worked for her; her shiny honey-brown hair and similarly coloured skin set the dress off perfectly, and the bit of contouring and understated smoky eyes had worked wonders for her. I noticed she couldn’t help glancing at herself in the mirror. I smiled, pleased she was happy.

  ‘Much better,’ Kate said, looking her over.

  ‘You look beautiful, as you always do,’ I said, ignoring Kate’s blunt remark.

  She smiled nervously. ‘I do love my hair and make-up. And this dress is amazing.’

  Lucinda returned with three champagne flutes. ‘Lucinda, we’ll take that dress,’ Kate said, pointing at Megan.

  Megan’s eyes filled with horror and she shook her head. ‘I . . . I can’t,’ she whispered, so just Kate and I could hear.

  Kate, the champers obviously getting to her, waved off the remark. ‘It’s on me. You just have to have it. Today, think of me as your fairy sugar-mamma.’ I was surprised she didn’t hic at the end. I started to feel a little embarrassed on both Kate’s and Megan’s behalves and slipped into my cubicle to try on the teal Missoni maxi-dress I’d loved earlier while Megan continued to protest about Kate’s gift. With my hair and make-up done, it looked even better and it wouldn’t be long before the Emsworth, Haiden & Haiden summer ball. I popped my head around the curtain. ‘And this please, Lucinda.’

  Next, it was Kate’s turn. She stepped out in a white, form-fitting Versace dress that ended just above her knee. It was plain apart from two gold rings – one on the shoulder and one on the waist. Her tanned skin and dark hair contrasted perfectly.

  ‘I think you have yourself a winner there,’ I said, but I needn’t have.

  ‘I know.’ She smiled while smoothing the dress down over her curves and admiring herself in the mirror.

  ‘You look like George Clooney’s wife,’ Megan exclaimed.

  Kate smiled. ‘Shame he didn’t meet me first.’ With that, she turned back and went into her cubicle.

  While we were waiting for Kate, I started to send James a text message, just to see what time he’d be back from the office. Yes, he was at the office on a Saturday. When I looked up, I saw Megan trying on the Balmain leather jacket and turning from left to right as she admired it through the mirror.

  ‘You love it, don’t you?’ I asked.

  ‘I do. I’ve never had anything so expensive on my body before. Not even my engagement ring is worth this much.’ She shook her head. ‘The leather is so soft.’

  ‘Well, if there was ever a time to treat yourself, now would be it,’ I said.

  ‘You have to have it. It’s like it was made for you!’ Kate said, bursting out of the fitting room.

  ‘So, what are we having, ladies?’ Lucinda asked.

  ‘I’m taking these,’ Megan blurted out, holding up the dress and the jacket in one hand and a credit card in the other. I glanced at Kate. ‘Don’t worry, the account is in Mike’s name, and he’s recently cleared the balance,’ Megan said, grinning.

  ‘I’m beginning to like you.’ Kate smiled, placing an arm on Megan’s shoulder.

  An hour or so later, we were sipping Singapore Slings and dancing in one of the trendy bars that had popped up in Wilmslow. Megan was even seeming to enjoy herself, which meant I could relax a bit too.

  ‘All right, ladies?’ A doughy man in navy jeans and a white shirt invaded our dancing triangle. ‘Can I buy one of you gorgeous ladies a drink?’ I looked him over wondering if he’d be a good option for Megan to have a bit fun with. With his fleshy face and leering grin, he wasn’t.

  I was about to shoo him away when Kate piped up. ‘Rule number one, you don’t just barge into a group of women having fun. Rule number two, you pick one girl and politely flatter her; you don’t chance all three.’ She shook her head and turned her back to him. ‘I bet he has the gall to complain about being single too!’ I started to feel a bit sorry for him.

  ‘Ooh, we have a feisty one here.’ He looked amused. ‘Okay then – you, I’ll buy you a drink.’ He prodded a finger towards her ample bosom and smirked as he cast a lewd eye over her perfect figure – a gesture she would definitely not appreciate.

  Her nostrils flared. ‘How about you buy yourself a taxi home and a shirt that doesn’t gape around your swollen middle,’ Kate snapped, seemingly not taken with his charms.

  He pulled a face and sauntered off, making a beeline for the next group of women.

  ‘Well, if that’s what the fish in the sea are like these days, I think I’ll stay single for the rest of my life,’ Megan said allowing her features to sag in defeat.

  ‘It’s not just the fish in the sea that pose a problem.’ Kate nodded towards the group of girls that our lecherous laddie had just approached. ‘It’s the competition. Look at them – it’s like the Victoria’s Secret works do over there.’

  She was right: women seemed to have come on leaps and bounds recently in make-up artistry, creating cheekbones, eyebrows, and a flawless finish that defied nature and made Photoshopped magazine pictures seem plausible. Of course, for this one night only, we looked pretty darn good too but the women she was talking about were something else. There was a certain air of ‘supermodel’ style about them.

  Today’s role models are a tough act to follow. Instagram and Snapchat ‘celebs’ promoting buff bodies and clean eating make for a
tougher aspiration. I’d thought clean eating was washing your salad before chucking it in a bowl until Megan told me it was the latest fad diet. Admittedly, I’d then tried it – desperate to keep up.

  ‘You can’t tell how old anybody is any more,’ Megan said.

  ‘That’s because people have fillers and Botox and get their lips done,’ Kate chimed in.

  ‘You’re one to talk.’ If it was available, Kate had tried it – not that I was a stranger to the odd minor filler here and there.

  ‘Well, I’m forty; I’m talking about younger women. I mean, look how skinny they are – where do they keep their organs?’ She was gawping at the same waif-thin, seemingly ageless group at the bar that Megan had pointed out.

  ‘You’re forty-three! And haven’t seen a double-figured dress size in your life. You’re basically an older version of those girls but still you look as good.’ Kate was exasperating sometimes and I was beginning to wonder if she’d start quoting Snow White villains in her next breath. Megan had stood in a bemused silence throughout our exchange.

  ‘An eight, not a double zero. The only curves those girls aspire to would have to be made from silicone.’

  I smirked. Kate was a handful but she wasn’t a bitch. ‘Oh my goodness, you’re jealous.’

  ‘I’m not, I’m—’

  ‘Don’t worry, Kate, you’re still the fairest in the land,’ I said in a mock-babying tone, earning myself a weary glance.

  ‘You could always join in Charlotte’s PT sessions with me,’ Megan said, looking over at me nervously. She was sweet. And brave.

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Kate scoffed. ‘This body hasn’t exercised since 1994! I dread to think what would happen if I lifted more than a glass of champers.’ We giggled but I knew there was something off.

  Changing the subject, I turned my attention to Megan. ‘Do you think you’d want to meet someone else? In time, I mean.’ I’d assumed she’d want to but hadn’t considered the possibility that Mike had put her off men for good.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m still processing what’s happened so it’s hard to think about it at the moment. I’d like to think I’ll meet someone who treats me right. I always liked the idea of being married.’