I waited all of a hundred and twenty-seven seconds for a response, hardly breathing.
Let’s go to my place. A xx
I’d love to. Are you cooking?
Ten long minutes passed before his next email.
I’d have to get some food in. Why don’t we meet at our bar for a drink? We can grab a bite from there. Five thirty?
Work didn’t even officially end till six. He was that keen.
Ellie wriggled with delight when I offered her my ticket. When she found out why, I almost had to clamp my hand over her mouth to keep her from telling the whole office about my evening plans.
‘I’m so excited for you!’ she whispered, still loud enough for heads to turn. ‘And you look nice.’
‘Yes …’ That was true, at least on the surface. It wasn’t my absolutely favourite outfit – I’d have preferred a dress to the black trousers and floaty top – but unless the Sainsbury Local around the corner did a line in sexy frocks, it was the best I would look. Unfortunately there were underlying structural issues. ‘I’m wearing a terrible bra,’ I confessed. ‘It was white till I washed it with my jeans.’ I hated that bra. On top of its dinginess, it was a minimiser. Without the sufficiently bounteous goods to subdue, I looked like I was wearing week-old helium balloons on my chest.
She grabbed the top of her blouse and stared down at her own chest. ‘Mine’s not too bad. It’s pink. Do you want to wear it?’
Only a true friend would give you her bra. ‘Thanks.’ I grabbed her top for a look. ‘Actually that matches my knickers a bit better too.’
‘Good, because I’m not giving you my knickers.’
Friendship did have its limits.
We hurried to the loos to swap smalls. An old eyeliner was lodged in the pocket of my handbag so I swiped on some navy blue, and possibly a bit of conjunctivitis, and counted the minutes until I could slip out.
He was late. Inside the pub, patrons were even sparser than usual thanks to the sunny day. I didn’t order a drink and vowed to stay no more than ten minutes. I did still have some pride, after all.
Assuming he showed up, this would be a momentous event. As I looked back over my romantic résumé I realised I’d never had a second date with a man I really really liked. I only put Rory, Rob and Alex in that category. The other men I’d gone out with were only Adequate.
He came through the door a few minutes later, full of smiles and apologies and offers to buy my wine. I told myself I’d have definitely left when his time was up. I was very brave in theory.
‘So, what have you been up to?’ he asked, clinking my glass with his pint. ‘Smith seems to be storming along. That’s all down to you, I know.’
I blushed at the compliment. ‘He’s catching on fast.’ I didn’t mention that today he’d caught on to Alex and me. I hadn’t said anything to Cressida about his emails to my clients either. It wasn’t a good time to earn a reputation for not playing nicely with the other children. ‘I’ve fixed a meeting with Jenny at the end of the month!’ I told him instead.
Of course she claimed to have no recollection of agreeing to a meeting when I first called her. She only agreed when I lost my cool with her again. I worried that I was feeding some weird sado-masochistic fetish she had. If she met me wearing PVC, wanting to be spanked for being a naughty client, I was going to ask for overtime pay.
‘I can’t believe you’ve got Jenny to see you,’ Alex said, grinning. I was lost in that smile. ‘Will Smith go with you?’ I shook my head. ‘Oh. But I thought he was shadowing you on all your client visits.’
‘Is that a problem?’
‘No, not at all. Hey, we’re not here to talk about work anyway.’ He put his hand on my thigh. ‘I want to hear all about you. I’m really glad to see you. You have no idea how glad.’ He put his hand behind my neck and pulled me to his lips. I felt a sensual flush course through me. ‘You are such an incredible kisser,’ he said. ‘So damn sexy. God, you have no idea what you do to me.’
I glanced at his trousers. Actually I was getting a pretty good idea. Seeing him so aroused made me weak-kneed, and also a little powerful. I had the upper hand. I leaned in to kiss him again, savouring his soft groans. The sound made my belly clench.
‘Let’s go,’ he whispered.
‘I’m not hungry yet.’
‘I’m not talking about food. Please. Let’s go back to my place. I have to get you into bed.’ As he kissed me again I gathered that his invitation hadn’t been without ulterior motives. An uncomfortable bit of grit settled into my conscience. It wasn’t too painful but it let me know it was there.
Still, I let him take my hand and lead me from the bar. My motives weren’t completely pure either.
Rush hour gave us a welcome excuse to jam our bodies together in the packed Tube carriage. ‘You’d best hold onto me,’ he murmured. I slid my arms around his waist as he held the overhead rail with one hand, his other arm snaked around my shoulders. Standing together like that, with my breasts against his chest and his rather impressive erection pushing against my tummy, it was easy to forget about the commuters who surrounded us. By the time we got to Pimlico I was nearly an orgasmic puddle.
He led me by the hand up the sisal stairs. ‘Let’s go to the bedroom,’ he said, pushing me against the wall to kiss me. ‘I want to be inside you.’
‘What about dinner?’ I teased.
‘Sod dinner. Come on.’ He walked down the hall. Then, ‘Aren’t you coming?’
A flicker of doubt crossed my mind again. I was too turned on to think straight but even so, something about the urgency of Alex’s need made me hesitate. What about the romance, the slow seduction? Alex was racing to the finish line when I hadn’t yet fired the starter pistol. Should I disqualify him?
He walked back to me and gently stroked my cheek. ‘You are beautiful, Katie. I’m sorry, I’ve been rude. I’m just so turned on around you. But that’s no excuse not to be a gentleman. That’s what you deserve. Would you like something to drink?’ He moved away from me, toward the kitchen. I wanted him close again.
His chivalry melted what little resolve I had. After all, I reasoned, didn’t I want this too? ‘Actually, I’d like you to take me to the bedroom.’
He smiled, kissed me roughly, and led the way.
We fumbled to strip each other’s clothes, messily kissing in that way that’s embarrassing in public, but so hot in the lead-up to sex. All decorum went out the window when we got into bed together. He knew exactly what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to show me, or tell me. I did the same. It was liberating in every way possible. I wasn’t just free from self-consciousness. I was, for those few hours, free from all the feelings that he usually stirred up. I simply enjoyed myself.
We’d barely finished when he pulled me to him again. ‘I could fuck you forever,’ he said.
‘That’s some stamina you’ve got.’ The emotions came rushing back in, with hope in the lead.
‘It’s been a while,’ he said. ‘I’m so horny for you.’ His movements became impatient. ‘I’m ready again.’
I wasn’t, really. Call me selfish, but I was a one-orgasm kind of girl. Besides, I wanted to cuddle and continue our date. It was still light outside. I laughed. ‘You’ve tired me out!’ I gently moved his hand from between my thighs.
‘What about my needs?’ he asked.
‘I think you … didn’t you just …?’
He nodded, grinning. ‘And I could do it again. Look what you do to me. Come on.’ He dove for my crotch again.
‘No, really, I am tired. This was amazing.’ He passionately returned my kisses. ‘Now I’ve got an appetite.’
Something didn’t feel right.
‘Me too!’
‘Pssh, not that kind. Should we get something to eat?’ I wanted to get out of that bed. It felt too much like I was only there for one reason. I wanted to be there for many reasons.
‘Are you serious?’ He sat up. ‘All right, if that’s what you want.’ He swung his legs to the floor with
his back to me. It seemed more than a physical gesture.
Dressing again wasn’t nearly as much fun as undressing had been. We were silent. Guiltily I put Ellie’s bra back on. I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d done something wrong.
‘There’s no food in the house,’ Alex said, sounding more like my finance director than my lover. ‘And I’m not really hungry anyway.’ I followed him to the living room where he threw himself on the sofa without inviting me to join him. I became very aware that we were in his territory.
The message was loud and clear. I could have dinner if I wanted, but it wasn’t going to be with him. With as much dignity as was humanly possible in the depths of humiliation, I said, ‘I’ll say good night then. Thanks for a … sexy night.’ I kissed his lips, grabbed my handbag and fled down those sisal stairs before he could see my tears. Not that he’d have cared.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Ellie was acting weird when I got home. She didn’t even ask how my date went. Ha, some date. That was the euphemism of the year. I was desperate to shower off the whole experience.
‘I didn’t expect you back this early,’ she said from the sofa where she sat in her workout clothes with her bare feet tucked beneath her. The TV was on the twenty-four-hour rolling news with the sound turned down.
‘Did something happen that I should know about?’ I asked, suspending my urge to clean up to sit beside her.
She glanced up sharply. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Just because the news is on. I didn’t know if we were at war or something, that’s all.’
‘Oh, no, no, I don’t think so. I wasn’t really watching it.’
She didn’t ask me where I was going when I got up to shower.
My head was crowded with thoughts of Alex. Unlike the previous six years of Alex-related mind clutter, this was unwelcome. I’d been a grade A, class one fool, thinking someone like Alex could ever want an actual relationship with someone like me. Of course he knew how pathetically desperate I was. It was the worst-kept secret in the western world.
The biggest disappointment about the whole sorry affair wasn’t that Alex had obviously used me. It wasn’t that, to him, I’d been nothing but a willing woman attached to a vagina. Or even that I’d been so deluded that I’d let him convince me otherwise. It was that, when the optimism ran out, self-loathing rushed in to fill the empty pools. Not strength, or thoughtful understanding or even anger at the man who’d used me. Just my own finger pointing back at me, telling me this was my fault. Despite all the evidence, I was the unworthy one.
It was easy to tell myself not to think that way. After all, I knew perfectly well it wasn’t true. Alex had his own issues. He’d been a player for as long as I’d known him. He was the user, and the one who should feel bad. And still I blamed myself while he was probably watching Celebrity Big Brother with a beer in his hand and not a single regret in his heart.
I tried not to feel stupid for thinking that I’d been so stupid. Round and round I went as I tried to shower off the humiliation.
‘Are you all right?’ I asked Ellie when I returned to the living room. ‘You seem upset. Is it Thomas?’
She shook her head. ‘I have to tell you something, but I don’t want to. You’re going to be upset.’
I sat beside her. ‘You couldn’t make me feel any worse. Believe me.’
‘Don’t bet on that … Pixie has called a special meeting. Tomorrow. She wants a vote for Fat Friends.’
That wasn’t a surprise. The speed-dating events had all been sell-outs and the survey feedback was generally good.
‘You’re sweet to worry for me, but I figured it was just a matter of time before she forced a vote. It’s okay.’
She clicked off the telly, where images of the Prime Minister flickered. ‘That’s not the part that’s going to upset you,’ she said. ‘Pixie also suggested that we should consider whether … oh, I don’t want to say it!’ She covered her face with the throw pillow.
‘Ellie, come on, don’t get yourself worked up. Just tell me. It can’t be that bad.’
She peered over the pillow’s golden fringe. ‘We need to think about whether you present the right image for the Curvy Girls Club any more. Now that you’re no longer curvy.’
I was wrong. It was worse.
I went to the meeting the next night with a feeling of dread lodged firmly in my no-longer-curvy gut. At least Jane had made Ellie warn me, so that the coup d’état didn’t come as a complete shock. I didn’t call Jane. It had been my first instinct, but then I didn’t want to put her in an even more uncomfortable situation. I’d argue my case in front of everyone.
She was already at the offices when Ellie and I arrived. ‘I brought snacks,’ she said, acting like this was just another girls’ night out.
‘Thanks, but I’m not hungry just now,’ I said. I busied myself admiring David’s newest furry works of art. Lately he’d gone down the fantastical route, creating the most improbable animals. I quite liked the mouse with sparrow wings, and the sparrow head on a mouse’s body even had something interesting about it. But the turtle with a cat’s head and feet was just creepy.
Pixie ambled in just as my continuing admiration of hybrid animals started to look conspicuously like avoidance.
‘Sorry I’m late,’ she said. ‘I had to drop the children at home. Trevor’s I mean. Everybody good?’
‘All right, please stop right there,’ I said, catching everyone’s attention. ‘Ellie told me what this meeting is about, so we can dispense with the chumminess. I’d prefer honesty, if you don’t mind.’
All three friends stared at me. Pixie was the first to speak. ‘Katie, love, what are you on about? There’s no reason to get your knickers in a bunch when all we’re doing is proposing board business.’
‘Whatever,’ I said crossly. ‘Can we please just start?’
‘What are these?’ she asked Jane, pointing to the plastic box of baked goods. She was determined to do this on her terms.
‘They’re … whoo, it’s hot in here, no?’ Jane grabbed a bunch of papers off the desk to fan herself. ‘They’re choux pastry filled with gorgonzola. I thought it’d be nice to have something other than the usual M&S samosas.’
‘Are you all right?’ I asked, concerned at her sudden pallor. ‘Your lips have gone blue.’
‘I’m fine, really. Fine. Pixie’s right, we should start before it gets too late. I told Andy I’d be home by nine.’
I hoped Pixie was proud of herself. Forcing this vote was making Jane feel ill.
‘Whatever,’ I said crossly. ‘Can we please just start? Who’s taking notes?’
Ellie waved her pen.
‘Okay. Any new business?’
‘Yes,’ said Pixie. ‘I’d like us to vote on whether Fat Friends should go ahead. We’ve had five more speed-dating nights since our last discussion, and they’ve all sold out. We’ve cleared over four thousand quid after expenses. They’re our most profitable events. And the surveys show that they have a ninety-two per cent approval rating. Seventy-one per cent say they’re excellent. We’re on to something huge here. I think we should formalise this so we can decide on a strategy.’
‘Aren’t you worried about the eight per cent who give it a negative rating?’ I asked. My objection sounded lame even to me. ‘The comments show that it’s not good for some of our clients.’
Pixie considered my question. ‘You could make the same argument about the tasting dinners we have. We’re pushing double cream and butter on the overweight. That could contribute to heart attacks. We can’t worry about everything that could be bad for every client. We’re not the morality police, love. Besides, the speed-dating nights are our highest-rated events. If we cancelled anything with an eight per cent disapproval rating we wouldn’t run any events.’
She waited for me to respond. I couldn’t think of an objection to that.
‘Does anyone have any other comments?’ Pixie asked. Ellie shook her head. ‘Then can we please vo
te? All in favour of Fat Friends becoming an official part of the club?’ She raised her hand.
Jane’s hand followed Pixie’s into the air. ‘I can’t argue with ninety-two per cent of our members,’ she said.
Poor Ellie. Her face was a study in anguish. I knew how much she wanted to be loyal to me. I also knew how she’d vote if emotions weren’t part of the equation. She was eminently sensible and always weighed the pros and cons of her actions carefully – except sometimes when they involved her love life.
I put my hand in the air. Did I vote that way to silence my critics? Not really. I had to look at the facts, and they supported Pixie whether I liked it or not.
‘Really, Katie?’ asked Ellie. I nodded and she gratefully raised her hand.
‘Unanimous,’ Pixie said with less surprise than I’d hoped.
‘I want to register a qualification though,’ I said. ‘I’m still worried about how these nights might impact our more—’ I just stopped myself from saying vulnerable. ‘Our less happy clients. Can we make sure we keep using the surveys to check that people aren’t being alienated?’
Ellie diligently recorded my words.
‘And I have a suggestion,’ I continued. ‘Can we please not call it Fat Friends? I feel very strongly about that. There’s got to be a better name. We’re clever. I’m sure we can think of something else.’
‘Chubby Cherubs?’ Pixie asked.
‘Very funny.’ The tension notably lifted in the room. ‘Let’s keep thinking.’
That wasn’t as bad as I’d feared.
‘Er, just one more thing, love. We should talk about your weight loss. Officially.’
So much for the light mood.
For the first time Pixie looked uncomfortable rather than bolshie. ‘We started the club as a way to give overweight people a place where they felt comfortable as they are, right? Part of the reason they’re happy to be with us is because they’re in like-minded company. That’s the whole point of the club. We’re the norm in this world, not the size tens. So I wonder how they feel when you, the president, are now in that other world. You’re not really one of us any more. Do you see what I mean?’
The Curvy Girls Club Page 23
