I tried to look offended that he thought I couldn’t keep a secret. Of course he was right.
‘Ellie, I planned to tell you on Friday afternoon. It’s all booked.’
‘You’re not having an affair with Colleen?’ Ellie asked. ‘Really?’
‘How could I, when I love you so much? I love you, Ellie.’
A little sound escaped Ellie. ‘You … love me?’
He smiled. ‘More than I ever thought I could love someone. You’re remarkable, tremendous. I love you very much.’
She launched herself into his arms. ‘I love you too!’ Within minutes the sofa was having flashbacks to Rory and me.
Happy as I was for them, it was getting a bit uncomfortable. ‘Ehem, I’m really sorry, Ellie, but we’ve got to go. We’ve got the meeting, remember? Normally I’d say you could skip it, but it’s an important one tonight. I’m really sorry, Thomas.’
‘That’s okay,’ Thomas said, not looking the least bit put out that I’d interrupted his big moment. He was lovely Thomas again. ‘This was sprung on Ellie. I’ll see you after, right?’ he asked. I assumed he wasn’t talking to me as I shuffled Ellie out the door.
We were late as we hurried to the offices, but had a valid excuse. The aerodynamics of Ellie’s enormous grin slowed us down.
She talked about Thomas all the way there, punctuating her commentary with declarations of love every few minutes. As I listened happily I realised how much she’d been holding back. But now that she knew the water was completely safe, she plunged in over her head. I gave them a year before they walked down the aisle.
‘Nice of you to join us, ladies,’ said Pixie as we let ourselves in.
I could see that Rob’s cousin had been busy again. Our menagerie was much expanded. We played spot-the-difference every time we came into the offices, looking for furred or feathered evidence of David’s latest taxidermic efforts.
‘Do you think he’s actually selling these any more, or just scouring the roadside for things to stuff?’ Ellie examined the skinny black and white cat on her desk. It was sitting primly, working a Liza Minnelli vibe in a tiny top hat.
‘Maybe Rob should have a word with him?’ Jane said. ‘They are starting to cramp the space.’
‘And some of them are pongy,’ Pixie said. ‘I’m all for the creative arts, but I draw the line there. That bear probably has fleas.’
‘Fleas don’t live on dead things,’ I pointed out. ‘No blood to suck. I don’t really think we should rock the boat at this point since we can’t afford to move anywhere else. Maybe once we’re making some more money.’
‘Speaking of which,’ said Pixie. ‘We should start.’ She winced as she tried to shift her chair around to the other side of the desk.
‘Pixie? Are you all right?’
She stared at us for a second before answering. ‘I’m fine, love. Just pulled a muscle, that’s all.’
We knew she was lying. Pixie couldn’t pull a muscle because Pixie didn’t exert herself.
‘A pulled muscle, eh?’ I said. ‘How did you do that?’
‘Oh, well, I tripped over the chair in the lounge. You know, the big green one. Trevor and I were rowing and I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. Stupid, really.’
‘Pixie. What really happened?’ Ellie asked.
She flushed, and sighed loudly. ‘Trevor’s getting worse. He’s picking fights every night. I’m not even sure how this one started. His dinner was a bit cold or something. He went off on his usual tirade about how lazy and stupid I am. How he works all the time … ha, if he worked all the time I wouldn’t have to choose between new school uniforms or paying the Sky bill. The children’s uniforms aren’t even blue any more, and poor Connor’s trousers hardly reach his ankles. Not that Trevor cares about that … I think he’s drinking after work now. He denies it but I can smell it on him.’
‘Did he hit you?’ I asked. There was no reason to beat around the bush about beating.
‘No.’ She looked from one doubtful face to another. ‘I promise you, he didn’t. We were arguing in the lounge. It was getting quite heated, even for us. And when I turned to check on the children, he grabbed my arm and spun me around. That’s when I fell over the back of the chair.’
‘You fell, or he pushed you?’
‘I fell. I think I fell. It happened so fast that I didn’t even have time to put my hands out. I’m not exactly light on my feet now, am I? I must have staggered or something and pulled the muscle then. It’s not that bad.’
She was purposely missing the point. Of course it’s that bad when your husband causes you to go over a chair.
‘Pixie, you can’t stay with him. If he’s getting physical you’ve got to leave.’ I went to put my arms around her solid shoulders. Because of her size, it was easy to forget sometimes how vulnerable she really was. She squeezed me back tightly.
‘That’s what I’ve been saying, love,’ she nearly whispered. ‘But I need to be able to support myself. I can’t leave unless I do.’ She straightened up. ‘That’s why I want to make a formal proposition for us to vote on tonight.’ Her expression became closed again. ‘About Fat Friends. Should we formally start the meeting? Who wants to be secretary?’
‘I will,’ I said, dreading Pixie’s proposal. ‘This meeting is called to order.’
Sometimes the formality of our board meetings seemed silly. After all it was just the four of us and Pete the bear.
‘The accounts are looking great,’ I said as I passed out the photocopy I’d prepared. ‘Bookings are still going strong, as you can see, and we’re getting over a thousand unique views a week on the website. Rob has calculated that that’s nearly a thirty per cent conversion rate from views to bookings.’
‘Does that mean if we doubled the number of people going on the website we’d double the number of bookings?’ Ellie asked.
I shrugged. ‘I’m not sure if it works like that but it would certainly boost them.’
‘That’s why The Great British Makeover is so important,’ Jane said. ‘It could make the club the hottest thing since …’ she struggled to find the analogy ‘… salted caramel truffles. Imagine doubling the number of people who can attend. That’d mean doubling the fees too.’
I nodded. ‘And having to double the number of events we host, which means having to hire more people.’
‘Actually, my idea might address that,’ Pixie said, sounding uncharacteristically shy. ‘Here, I’ve made some notes.’ She smoothed out a few pages of lined paper covered in her loopy scrawl. ‘I think we should expand by having a dating business within the club. It could be online-only, though that might be very expensive to set up. Someone would have to build a website for the profiles and such. So until we’ve got enough money we could run more speed-dating events. And singles nights too. They’re almost pure profit since we don’t usually have to hire the bar and can charge entry fees as well as the admin fee. We can accommodate up to around eighty people at each event, so that takes some of the pressure off Katie’s event planning. The speed-dating night we ran last month netted us nearly a thousand quid. And we were oversubscribed, so people obviously like the idea.’
‘I don’t think we can judge based on one event,’ I pointed out.
‘I agree,’ she said, suddenly less shy. ‘We should have more and see how many people sign up.’
I knew I’d been out-manoeuvred. If I said yes, of course the events would fill up. Just look at how many people joined online dating sites in January after being trapped in the house over Christmas eating mince pies and bickering with family. Imagine what being single for months or years did to a person’s psyche. Not that I was objecting to people finding love, but I had to lay my cards on the table.
‘We could do that, but I have bigger concerns than whether people will come.’
‘But it is a social club, sweetheart,’ Jane said. ‘The whole point of it is to have events that people want to come to.’
Was that the whole point t
hough? I wasn’t sure. Maybe the point was also to make our members feel good about themselves. Or, at least, not to make them feel bad. What was that medical saying? First, do no harm. That seemed like a good rule to live by.
‘I’m sure that speed-dating will be very popular,’ I said. ‘I just worry about stigmatising our members even more than they already are. Something doesn’t sit right with having a dating business where all the people joining are vulnerable.’
‘So just because we’re fat, we’re vulnerable?’ Pixie asked. ‘Can we not make up our own minds? Do we need to be treated like we’re feeble?’
‘Don’t twist my words, Pixie. All I’m saying is that our members don’t always feel great about themselves. And that makes them vulnerable. I’ve told you about that study, about how men view themselves and women. Men underestimate their own size,’ I explained to Jane and Ellie. ‘And they see normal women as fat. So they walk around with flabby guts thinking they’re God’s gift, and they look down on women who are thinner than they are. That’s not a recipe for success for our women members. You know how women think. If I get rejected, I assume it’s because I’m not thin enough. Sure I might also be neurotic, or too gobby or whatever, but my size is the first thing I think of. I’m not the only one who thinks like that.’
Ellie nodded.
‘I see your point,’ Jane said. ‘As empowering as the club is, it won’t be enough for some of our members. And they might be very sensitive to rejection.’
‘Exactly,’ I said.
‘On the other hand we had really good feedback from the speed-dating events,’ she said. ‘So it does seem to be what our members want.’
I crossed my arms. ‘I just don’t want to start something that could do more harm than good. Not when the club has been so supportive for everyone. What if men start coming to the events looking for women who are just grateful for the attention? They could use it as a way to shag vulnerable women.’
‘A lot of our members could use a good shag,’ Pixie said. ‘Speaking for myself anyway.’
She could be funny even when she was being a pain in the arse. ‘Well, even so, that’s the last thing they need.’
Pixie fixed me with the gaze she used on her children when they’d pushed her too far. ‘I don’t think you’re the best person to judge what we need. Look at you. You’re like a reformed alcoholic preaching to the drunks.’
I ignored her jibe. ‘Well, the fact remains that I’m a co-founder of this club, just like you are, and Ellie and Jane. So I do have a say, just like everyone else. For me, it comes down to the fact that I don’t want to be associated with a dating site for fat people. I think it’s a bad idea that risks hurting our members. Just think how that will look if we became known as a chubby-chaser dating site. We could be completely crucified in the media. Think of our reputations.’
Pixie glared at me. ‘Whose reputation, exactly? You mean your reputation, don’t you, Katie? Is that it? Now that you’re getting thin you don’t want to be associated with fat people like us?’
Surely she must have known how much her words stung. We’d been friends for four years. These were my best friends.
‘I can’t believe you’d think that of me,’ I said quietly. ‘Is that what you all think?’
‘No!’ said Ellie. ‘I don’t think that at all.’
‘Me neither,’ said Jane. ‘And nor does Pixie. Pixie, stop making Katie feel bad. You know she’s only thinking of what’s best. We’re all emotional right now, what with Pixie’s news about Trevor. I think you both have good points about the singles events.’
‘We need to vote on it,’ said Pixie.
‘Maybe we should think about it for a while,’ Ellie said.
‘What’s to think about?’ Pixie asked. ‘You’ve heard my argument. It’s very profitable for the club. It was well-attended, and as Katie pointed out, dating sites are very popular these days, so we know our events will sell well. And you heard Katie’s arguments against it. Let’s vote. Okay? All in favour of starting a dating side for the club?’
Pixie’s hand shot up. Slowly Jane’s followed. I watched Ellie. She shook her head.
‘All against?’ Ellie and I put up our hands.
‘Not passed.’
‘All right,’ Pixie said. ‘I move to propose another speed-dating event and if it goes well, we can do more.’
She just wouldn’t give up on her idea. This time Ellie put her hand up. ‘It doesn’t hurt to have one more and see how it goes. Maybe we can do a survey after to see how everyone feels?’
That did make sense and I knew Pixie wasn’t being purposely difficult. She really thought that Fat Friends was a great business idea. If I were her I’d push just as hard. In fact I was pushing just as hard, in the opposite direction. I might resent her cutting comments, but I couldn’t fault her for arguing for what she thought was right. Even if it was misguided. Plus, I hadn’t forgotten how the meeting had started.
‘I have one more motion to propose,’ I said. ‘I propose that Pixie should work for the club. I could cut the hours I work to one day. Pixie, could you work say, sixteen hours a week?’ With our current bookings we could just about afford to pay for three days a week plus Rob, and the fifty quid a month we gave Rob’s cousin to use the menagerie as our offices.
‘Pixie,’ Jane said. ‘Why don’t you let me take the children after school? Two more in the house won’t make any difference, and they’re really no trouble. I’d just need to be in the office on Fridays.’
Pixie nodded, smiling. ‘You’re all good friends,’ she said.
‘All in favour?’ I said.
Four hands went into the air.
Pixie might not get her Fat Friends but at least she could start looking for a way out of her marriage.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mum always said that when one door closed, a window opened. In my case that usually meant a bathroom window too tiny to squeeze through. But to my surprise, giving up some of my hours to Pixie worked out for us both. Even though I was still doing just three days a week at Nutritious, mentally the balance shifted back to my day job.
Pixie and I didn’t hold any grudges. Our friendship was too strong to stumble over one disagreement. I coached her on the event planning and she was ever-so keen to learn. As she sponged up all the information I threw at her, I realised how small and sad her Trevor-dominated world had become.
Within a few weeks, all the drama of the previous months faded away. Ellie and lovely Thomas were madly in love. Pixie was working her way out from under Trevor’s thumb and I felt like I was once again firing on all pistons at Nutritious. Which was how I found myself dialling Jenny’s number with newfound resolve one afternoon.
‘Hi Jenny, it’s Katie, from Nutritious.’
‘Yes?’ she snapped, effusing her usual milk of human kindness. ‘I’m busy. I can’t spend my entire day on the phone. Unlike you, apparently.’
‘Yes, well Jenny, I am in sales. Which is why I’m on the phone a lot.’ I took a deep breath. ‘And today I’ve got a deal for you. We’ve got a new product that’s getting a lot of good press—’
‘The press are idiots.’
‘And there are four clinical trials indicating its efficacy, and more than a hundred testimonials.’
‘I’ve heard all this before.’
‘And I’ve been authorised to give you a one hundred per cent free trial of the range. I could come see you to discuss it further, answer any questions you have and get you set up with the free products.’
‘Give me one reason why I should say yes.’
For years this woman had cut me off at every turn. Not one phone call passed without an insult of some kind. Beelzebub had a cheerier disposition. I gave up.
‘Do you know what, Jenny? I can’t think of a reason that you’d accept, so I’m just going to say what I’m thinking. Maybe because, after six years of phone calls, I might be the longest relationship you’ve ever had. Perhaps because you’ve discov
ered one iota of courtesy in that bitter heart of yours. Or maybe because you like free stuff. Take your pick.’
Suddenly she laughed. It was much less wooden than I imagined someone without a soul would sound.
‘Well, good on ya,’ she said. ‘That’s the first honest response I’ve ever heard from you. It’s nice to throw away the script, isn’t it? I can meet next month. I’m making no promises. I still don’t think your supplements are worth a damn. But I’ll meet you.’
I wanted to whoop the walls down as I hung up, but yodelling wasn’t popular in our office. I had to tell someone. Ellie was in the conference room taking notes for Clive. He wouldn’t appreciate the interruption.
‘Cressida?!’ I called as I flew into her office. She was one person I knew wouldn’t be on the phone. She never made calls these days. ‘Oh, I’m sorry!’
Alex sat opposite her at the little round table tucked in the corner. ‘I didn’t realise you were in a meeting.’ I was suddenly conscious of my too-big skirt and the scuffed, gum-soled black leather Mary Janes I used for commuting. I looked like an unstylish librarian in orthopaedic shoes.
Cressida shrugged and asked what I wanted.
‘I’ve got a meeting with Jenny next month!’
‘That’s fantastic,’ said Alex, grinning. ‘Well done!’ He answered Cressida’s surprised look. ‘What? Didn’t you think I knew who Jenny was? I’m a man of the people you know, keeping it real with the staff and that. Innit.’
‘You’re a prat,’ she said kindly. ‘But you’re a charming prat. Katie, that is wonderful news. Finally, the hard work pays off.’
The Curvy Girls Club Page 17
