The Curvy Girls Club

by Michele Gorman

  ‘I’ll explain later. Don’t wait up, okay? I’ll talk to you later.’

  ‘Ah, I see, okay! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!’ She rang off.

  Given Ellie’s sex life lately, that left a lot of options open.

  What was Jane thinking? She knew how dangerous those stupid pills could be. I thought the club was making her see the world differently. Clearly it wasn’t enough. We’d have to make her see sense on Saturday.

  When I came back in to Alex, I found him slouched on the sofa, looking relaxed and happy, with his feet on the low carved wooden table. ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Yes, fine, thanks. Our friend is moving out on Saturday and another friend … Well, we just need to help her move. May I use your loo please?’

  ‘Sure, it’s just down the corridor on the left. The light’s on a pull string on the right, just inside the door.’

  I stifled a guffaw when I clicked on the light. Alex’s bathroom was my mum’s dream – white-painted floorboards, antique French mirror and a double ended claw foot iron bath. I wanted to take my clothes off and have a long soak. Carefully I crept to the whitewashed armoire in the corner to peek inside. Mismatched threadbare towels were shoved in there, not one folded properly. Phew, Alex wasn’t gay.

  Stupidly I’d left my handbag in the living room, so had to resort to a remedial touch-up. I rubbed the smudged eyeliner from beneath my eyes and blotted my face with loo roll. I didn’t look too bad, considering.

  I scrutinised myself in the mirror. Come clean, Katie. Were there plans afoot to go to bed with Alex? I had to be honest with myself. Nothing about tonight had dimmed my feelings for him. If anything, they were stronger. When he told me about his sister, something melted inside me. I saw a man who’d been through hell, and I wanted to be close to him. Very, very close.

  Alex hadn’t stirred while I was in the loo. I moved to sit beside him. He drew me onto his lap instead.

  ‘Katie, this has been an incredible evening … so far,’ he whispered. He pulled me to him, kissing me urgently. As he held me, I slid beneath him. His hands moved slowly up my thigh. ‘Such a beautiful figure,’ he said between kisses. ‘I don’t want to wrinkle your dress. Perhaps you should hang it up?’

  Cheeky sod. ‘Not here,’ I said, stopping his hand on the dress’s zip.

  He smiled, helped me up, and led me to his bedroom.

  It was after three a.m. by the time my dress was back where it belonged. It might be several days before I stopped smiling. Alex was as amazing as I’d imagined. He was considerate, never making me feel the least bit uncomfortable. He lit a single candle and in that light I felt beautiful. He didn’t rush us into intercourse. In fact he didn’t hurry things along at all. I was the one who moved us to the next level, and then the next.

  I’d have loved to cancel my client meetings and stay in bed with him all the next day but, typically thoughtful, he reminded me how important the meetings were for my career. So I let him call me a taxi and kiss me until we heard it pull up. It wasn’t until I found myself back in my bed just before four a.m. that Rob barged back into my head. I had to figure out a way to lock that door so he didn’t disturb Alex and me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I got nearly three hours of fitful sleep so I was exhausted, but still happy, when I met Smith at the train station the next morning. Every time I thought of Alex a little flock of sparrows took flight in my tummy. Nothing was going to knock me off my cloud that day.

  ‘All right, Smith?’ I said when he ambled to our meeting spot just by the Costa Coffee.

  ‘Just fine, Katie, thanks. Here, I got you one.’ He handed me a glazed doughnut. ‘I came from King’s Cross. Home of the Krispy Kreme.’ He chomped his doughnut in two bites. ‘Careful, they’re addictive.’

  ‘Thanks, that’s kind of you.’ I had to remind myself that Smith probably didn’t mean to annoy me. He just had a knack for it.

  ‘Nah, it’s a blatant attempt to kiss up. You are my boss, sort of. Have you got the tickets?’ We walked toward the Departures board to see that our train was on time.

  I liked the idea of being his boss-sort-of. I’d never been a boss before, unless I counted my brief career as a till clerk at our local supermarket. The manager put me in charge when he went to lunch, but I wouldn’t call that an official role. Watching Smith, with his deliberately messed-up hair and slightly too-big suit, I felt more kindly disposed towards him. In taking him under my wing, I was nurturing his career. His future performance depended on how well I trained him. He was an all right kid, just a bit smarmy.

  On the train I briefed him about our first client. Luckily she was nothing like Jenny (who still hadn’t given me a firm date). I’d been talking to Afsaneh for nearly two years and she stocked lots of our products at her father’s chain of chemists near Leeds. Once we’d finished talking business, we often then chatted about other things. So I knew all about how her family came to England from Iran after the Revolution and she knew all about the Curvy Girls Club. She was just the sort of woman I felt like I could be real-life friends with, and I couldn’t wait to meet her.

  ‘Do you think she’s hot?’ he asked when I’d finished briefing him.

  As it happened, I did imagine she was hot. But I wasn’t about to tell him that. ‘Smith! Don’t be a sexist arse.’

  ‘That’s not sexist. I just wondered what you think she looks like. I imagine Arab women as hot, because they wear those burkas. Makes me want to know what’s underneath.’

  ‘I’m sure that’s not their intended purpose.’

  ‘Well, you know – forbidden fruit and all that. How old is she?’

  I wasn’t about to feed his dirty little mind any titbits. ‘I don’t know.’

  My phone bzzzed with a text. Alex?! ‘Excuse me a sec.’

  But it was Ellie, not Alex. Good morning! I assume it was good, since you didn’t come home last night :-) Did you have fun with ROB? :- )))) Ellie xx

  Of course she would think it was Rob I stayed out with. I kept my answer noncommittal. On the train with Smith now. (So she wouldn’t try calling for details.) Last night was fun. See you tonight after work. Should be home by six.

  I’d have to tell her about Alex, especially since we’d probably be seeing a lot more of each other. I might need her to cover for me at some point, if the company was serious about its non-fraternisation policy.

  Afsaneh’s office was easy to find from the train station. A rather uninspiring five-minute walk brought us to her pharmacy on a busy road that was chock-a-block with buses. We buzzed the intercom next door and the nondescript door clicked open. As I walked up the narrow stairs to the offices above the shop, I noted the sisal carpet, just like Alex’s. I wondered if too much Alex could rot the brain and decided I’d take the chance.

  Afsaneh was as beautiful as I expected her to be. She was clearly more beautiful than Smith expected. He was so smitten by her that he momentarily lost his bravado. Her gold jewellery and shoes looked expensive. She had very curly long black hair and huge almond-shaped green eyes. She wore more makeup than me, but then most twelve-year-olds wore more makeup than me.

  By the time our meeting ended an hour later, Afsaneh and I were well and truly bonded. If I ever moved north I had a best friend in the making. Smith had stayed nice and quiet throughout, diligently taking notes. I handed her my card as the meeting wrapped up. To my surprise, Smith did the same. He shrugged. ‘I just got them. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Not at all,’ said Afsaneh. ‘It was a pleasure to meet you both.’

  As we made our way downstairs, Smith found his tongue again. ‘Just four hundred and ninety-nine cards left to give away.’

  ‘You’ve got a crush on her,’ I teased.

  ‘Do not.’ But he reddened and didn’t joke any more about it.

  At our second client visit, with a rather grumpy dietician not far from Afsaneh’s office, Smith quietly took notes again. This time I couldn’t put his silence down to inf
atuation. Middle-aged men with balding heads and beer bellies didn’t normally turn him on. It must have been (dare I say it) professionalism. I liked this side of my protégée. He knew how to handle himself with clients. My training was paying off, I thought, as we boarded the train back to London.

  As I watched the city recede I allowed myself a huge mental hug. Why shouldn’t I be a tiny bit smug? Hadn’t I completely turned my life around in the past few months? Coming up with that client visit plan to get around Cressida’s objections was inspired. I was getting contracts renewed and Jenny was even going to give me a chance to meet. I was so on my way out of that Needs Improvement box. Examining my curvy silhouette in my new dove grey galaxy dress, I smirked. I was out of the Needs Improvement box there too.

  Now I couldn’t wait to start filming The Great British Makeover. Gok Wan was going to style me! I tried not to think about the naked part that would come first. There might have been less of me to fill a billboard recently but what was left had more dimples than the babies at a Huggies casting call. I could only hope for sympathetic lighting and a stronger constitution than I had last night.

  When Alex had unzipped my dress, I’d panicked. Suddenly I could feel the little rolls of flesh on my back that I knew squeezed out below my bra strap. My slack thighs and wobbly upper arms screamed Fat Katie. Surely he’d be horrified. Sucking in my tummy only made creases appear across the rippling landscape. What had I been thinking? What must he be thinking?

  But he didn’t seem to notice. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he’d whispered. Those two little words calmed me. No man had ever told me that before. Life really couldn’t be better.

  As soon as I walked through our front door I knew that Ellie had been to M&S again. Delicious aromas infused the air.

  ‘Ellie? What’s the special occasion?’ All the windows were open to let the warm breeze meander between the front of the flat and the back.

  She popped through the kitchen doorway wearing the Kiss the Cook apron that Thomas had given her after their roasted lamb shank dinner. Kiss the ReHeater, more like.

  ‘We’re celebrating,’ she said. ‘Come sit down. Want a glass of wine? There’s white open in the fridge.’

  ‘I just need to check my emails and have a shower. I’m sticky from the train. I’ll be right back. What are we celebrating?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when you come back in. Go shower.’

  Just as I was scrolling through my emails a new one appeared, from Afsaneh. She’d beaten me to the draw, that thoughtful woman. We could definitely be best friends one day.

  It was lovely to meet you as well, Smith, it read. And yes, please do feel free to get in touch with any ideas you may have. Kindest regards, Afsaneh

  Smith? I scrolled down to the message beneath. Of course it was from Smith. Not cc:ing me in, I noted. Afsaneh must have added me manually to her reply.

  There was nothing wrong with him emailing to thank a client for a visit. We were instructed to do that. But given that Afsaneh wasn’t his client, it was a bit weird. And even weirder that he hadn’t included me. And weirdest that he had asked to pitch products to her in future. I didn’t like that one bit, but it wasn’t something to mention to Cressida just yet. I’d be watching Smith closely.

  I stepped out of my clothes in my bedroom and slipped on my dressing gown, popping my mobile in the pocket. Just in case Alex phoned.

  It was the bathroom I’d fallen in love with when I first viewed the flat. Not only did it have room for a proper claw foot bath and a shower, there was a large sash window that overlooked the Tree of Heaven in the back garden. I’d spent many Saturday mornings soaking in that tub, staring out the open window. It was my favourite way to start a weekend. Then I’d set up for the day on the sofa, surrounded by the papers. It was a short walk to our eat-in kitchen (also light and airy) for regular caffeine top-ups.

  Not that it had been a peaceful haven when I bought it. Dad had his doubts about whether the flat was even structurally sound when we first saw it. The previous resident had been there for nearly fifty years. He’d had a little hoarding habit. The family cleared the floor-to-ceiling rubbish after he died, and that’s when they realised he’d also been very bad at DIY. Floorboards were torn up in the bedroom and living room and a leak in the kitchen meant the floor was rotten. The plaster had been pulled off the bedroom and bathroom walls, exposing the thin wood strips and struts beneath. The whole flat needed rewiring and plumbing.

  But I was a tradesman’s daughter. Dad agreed to call in favours from his builder friends, and did all the plastering himself. It took nearly two years to get the flat into decent condition, as Dad and his friends squeezed in a few hours at a time between other jobs. It felt like I’d forever be cooking on hotplates and shaking the builder’s dust from my clothes. But eventually they finished, and Ellie moved in soon after.

  I felt proud every time I walked up the road toward home. I saw the newly painted white stucco front and the waxflower shrubs that Mum and I had planted in the garden last year, and I knew I’d live there for a very long time.

  My phone was ringing! I dashed the soap from my eyes and lunged for my robe, tracking wet footprints across the floor.

  But it wasn’t ringing. There were no missed calls. Just wishful thinking.

  ‘What are we celebrating?’ I asked Ellie when I went back into the kitchen.

  ‘Love. Yours and mine,’ she said, pouring my wine. ‘Isn’t it wonderful? Who’d have thought both of us would end up with such amazing men?’

  ‘Well, we’re amazing you know,’ I pointed out. ‘So we deserve amazing men. Has Thomas been extra-lovely today?’ Thomas always seemed to be doing something thoughtful.

  She sat opposite me on the rickety chair. We’d found them in a skip. Repainted cream and pale blue, they looked nice, but they protested every time someone tried sitting on one.

  ‘No lovelier than usual. Cheers. To lovely men who deserve us, because we’re so fabulous.’ She took a big swig. ‘So, tell me everything about last night!’

  ‘Well,’ I started, savouring her eager expression. ‘I’ll start by saying that it was probably one of the best nights of my life … even though it wasn’t with who you think. I was with Alex, not Rob.’

  She looked stunned. ‘But I thought … but what about Rob?’

  ‘What about him?’ I snapped. ‘I’m trying to tell you about the incredible night I had with Alex. If you recall, Rob never asked me out again after our date. There is no Rob.’

  ‘Well, I’m sorry, Katie.’ She crossed her arms. She always did that when she was prepared to argue her point. ‘But there is a Rob. He’s your friend. He’s our friend, in fact, and you should talk to him before you go off sleeping with another man.’

  ‘Conjecture. You don’t know that I slept with Alex. And I don’t need anyone’s permission to go out with him. Least of all Rob’s. Never mind. I’m sorry I mentioned anything.’

  ‘Oh no. You’re not getting off that easily. You think I don’t know your tactics, Katie Winterbottom. You get all petulant when you don’t want to have a grown-up conversation.’

  That was the problem with arguing with your best friend. There were no unfamiliar manoeuvres.

  ‘Ellie,’ I said. ‘You’re twenty-five years old. What do you know about grown-ups?’ I smirked.

  ‘I know that you’re not acting like one. Come clean, Katie. Did you get together with Alex just to spite Rob?’

  ‘Spiteful sex? Not my style.’

  She gasped. ‘I didn’t say sex. So you did have sex with Alex! How was it?’

  ‘Oh, now suddenly you’re interested in my night? Finished judging me?’

  ‘No, not at all. I’ll come back to the judgement. But I want to know all the details first.’

  I knew she would judge me. I also knew she wouldn’t do it until after I’d had the chance to revel in my news. She’d also be fair, and would act in my best interest. So I told her all about my night. My tummy fizzed recounting it. It rea
lly was perfect. And I couldn’t wait to do it again. If only he’d call.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  It was already humid on Saturday when we set off in the moving van toward Pixie’s. Ellie was our nominated driver since Jane already had points on her licence and I’d never driven anything bigger than a VW Golf. Ellie coped well with the mix up in directions and unexpected one-way systems, and we pulled into Pixie’s driveway only ten minutes late.

  Pixie promised that we weren’t moving her out under a shroud of secrecy. Trevor, she said, would be at the house when we arrived. That’s what worried me. He hadn’t been pleased with Pixie’s new job or, by extension, those who gave it to her. If he pushed me over any chairs I was going straight to the police.

  She said he’d been uncharacteristically subdued, all things considered, since she broke the news of her change of address. He even asked her to stay so they could go to counselling. She agreed to counselling but wasn’t about to give up the place for her and the children.

  I heard Pixie shouting as we knocked on the door. Worried looks shot between us.

  ‘I told you no!’ Pixie shouted over her shoulder as she yanked the door open. ‘Hi, love. Come in.’

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Ellie asked, eyes darting down the hallway.

  ‘Oh, fine. Trevor’s just gone and promised Connor a puppy. His best friend got one when his parents split up. Connor thinks he’s won the lottery. Believe it or not, it’s been a relatively peaceful morning, considering. I’ve got a few more things to pack. Come upstairs and we can get it done quickly. Katie, will you please check on the children? They’ve gone quiet. I’d like to know that they’re not killing each other.’

  I went to the living room where Connor was face down, sobbing on the sofa. Kaitlin stood over him softly singing You can’t have a puppy. Every time she said the word puppy he cried harder. Kaitlin watched me as she sang. I put my finger to my lips and shook my head. She stopped. Sometimes I was glad to be an only child.