‘What happens now, Jane? Are they cancelling the show?’ Mentally, I begged her to say no.
But she nodded. ‘If Gok hasn’t got someone that fits their concept to make over on camera, there’s no show.’
‘Now what are we going to do?’ Pixie demanded. ‘Without the publicity we won’t grow like we need to. This is a huge missed opportunity.’ She glowered at me. Jane and Ellie looked more sympathetic.
I was surplus to requirement all over the place. Nutritious didn’t want me. Gok didn’t want me. Not even Alex the bastard wanted me. Though ironically, the problem wasn’t really that I was surplus when it came to the show. The problem was that there wasn’t enough of me.
‘Is there any way to convince them to go ahead with the show?’ I asked. Desperate Katie.
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart. They’re saying that because we signed contracts based on certain things—’
‘My measurements, you mean.’
She nodded. ‘They don’t want to change the focus of the show. It’s due to start recording in three weeks.’
‘Do they still want you?’ It hurt me to ask this question. She nodded. ‘Then we’ve got to do something. The show can still go ahead. We just need Pixie or Ellie to do it.’
‘Oh no,’ said Pixie. ‘No bloomin’ way! You were the one who agreed to get your arse out for the nation.’
‘But they don’t want me, Pixie. That means someone else has to do it or we lose the chance. I’m sorry. I’d do it if I could. They’ve made it clear they don’t want me.’
‘You know, Katie, I could kill you for putting us in this position!’ she cried. ‘This was your responsibility, not ours. Now you’re trying to make us feel like we’re letting everyone down by not doing it. It’s emotional blackmail. Friendship aside, from a business point of view, you’re a real bitch for doing it.’
I winced. ‘I don’t think calling me a bitch is very businesslike. Friendship aside, call me what you like; this is the situation we’re in. Instead of cutting off your nose to spite your face, you might try thinking about what’s best for everyone. I was willing to do it when we proposed the idea. Jane was willing to do it. You’re the one being selfish, Pixie, not me.’
‘Please,’ Jane implored. ‘Can we all calm down?’
Ellie mumbled something that got lost in the uproar.
‘I’m selfish?!’ Pixie said. ‘I’m not the one who’s been prancing around here with her new body and not a thought for what it means to the club.’
‘That’s not fair and you know it!’ Jane shouted over the top of Pixie. ‘Katie hasn’t done anything on purpose. You’re the one being the bitch here, not her. We all need to calm—’
‘I said I could do it,’ Ellie said more loudly. ‘Will you please stop fighting if I do it?’ I caught a glimpse into Ellie’s childhood then. Her parents divorced when she went to secondary school. We’d probably just dredged up a few extra reasons to think about therapy.
‘Really, sweetheart?’ Jane asked. ‘Are you positive you want to?’
‘No, I’m not positive and I definitely don’t want to. But I will if it means they’ll go ahead with the show. Pixie is right. You two came up with an amazing idea. We can’t let it slip away.’
‘Do you want to talk to Thomas about it first?’ Pixie asked. Her arms were still crossed, but her voice softened for Ellie.
‘Why? It’s my body, isn’t it? I’m the one who gets to decide what happens to it. I’ll do it,’ she said with more conviction. ‘Do you think they’d substitute me for Katie?’
Jane smiled. ‘I’m sure they will – you’ll be gorgeous on the show. Thank you. I’ve made myself sick thinking about telling you all afternoon. I’ll call Rea first thing tomorrow. I’m sure they’ll be happy with our solution. Now come on, we need a group hug. Katie, Pixie, please kiss and make up. Things get said in the heat of the moment that we don’t mean.’
She glared at me. I stared back.
‘Sorry,’ she mumbled as if she’d been caught stealing my ice lolly. She didn’t look a bit sorry. ‘We do still need to talk about this in the wider context though.’
‘Why won’t you let it drop, Pixie?’ Ellie asked. ‘Really, it’s like you’re out to get Katie. We’re just here to decide whether we can afford to give her more hours.’
‘But we also have to put that into context, love. I’m sorry if I’m the only one around here who’s thinking of the club.’
‘God, will you shut up with that?!’ I said. ‘You act like you’re single-handedly running the thing. Up until a month ago it was me who booked all the events, and worked with Rob on the website, and worked with Jane on the Channel 4 opportunity … this club means everything to me. Implying that I don’t care is just shitty. Wrong and shitty.’
‘Fine, then if you’ve got its best interest in mind let’s continue with the meeting.’ Her voice was calm, friendly even. You’d never know she was instigating a rebellion. ‘Ellie, you’ve got the notes from last time. Can you remind us where we left off?’
Ellie looked uncomfortable as she flipped through her pages. ‘Pixie, you said that we started the club to give overweight people somewhere that’s comfortable. We’re in like-minded company … Then you asked how they feel seeing Katie, who’s …’ Her eyes darted to mine.
‘It’s okay, Ellie, I remember what she said. Go ahead.’
‘You wondered how they feel to see Katie thin when she’s supposed to be representing them. You said she’s not one of us any more … for the record, I disagree with that. Katie will always be one of us, no matter what she looks like. She’s our friend.’
‘I know she is,’ Pixie said. ‘But we can’t let our friendship get in the way of what’s best for the club. We’re running a business. So we have to think about how we represent the Curvy Girls Club. That’s all I’ve ever been saying. And given that even Channel 4 has now said she’s not the right role model for us, I think we’ve got to talk honestly about that.’
‘They didn’t say that!’ Jane said. ‘They said she’s not right for the programme. They didn’t say anything about the club.’
Pixie considered this. ‘But why isn’t she right for the programme? Because they thought they were getting an overweight woman to make over, and instead they’ve got a thin one. It doesn’t fit with what they’re trying to do on that programme. This is a segment for Love Your Body month. They want someone with enough body to love, to represent normal women in the UK. It’s called The Great British Makeover, remember? Katie is meant to be representative of British women. Only she’s not. And she’s also not a representative for our members any more.’
I fought my instinct, which was to shout in her face. Gathering the kind of resolve that would have made Margaret Thatcher look like the Aluminium Lady, I said, ‘I understand why Rea doesn’t want me on the programme. But I don’t think the same logic applies to the club. I’m not the president because of my size. I’m the president because I helped build it from nothing and, I think, because I’ve done a good job. My performance isn’t dependent on my weight here any more than it is in the other parts of my life.’
‘No,’ Pixie said. ‘And I’m not calling into question your ability to book the events. But as president, you represent the club, so in that role, how you look to our members does matter.’ She sighed, as if considering something very important. ‘I think we need to put friendship aside and be honest about whether Katie is the right person to be heading the Curvy Girls Club.’
‘But Katie’s right,’ Ellie said. ‘Her ability has nothing to do with her waistline. You’re not being fair.’
‘But I’m trying to be completely fair,’ Pixie said smoothly. ‘You’re not listening to me. I haven’t questioned her role as an employee. I’m asking what kind of image we’re portraying with Katie at the head? You wouldn’t have someone who looks totally unfit running a gym, would you? There’s a reason everyone who works in those places looks like a gym bunny. Would anyone trust a breastfeeding or ch
ildbirth course run by a man? Probably not. A thin woman running a social club that’s supposed to make fat people feel comfortable about themselves doesn’t make sense either. You’ve got to put your feelings aside. If I’m wrong, then tell me why, logically.’
To my dismay, Jane and Ellie were silent. And actually, even I was having a hard time putting my finger on where her argument logically fell down. I could argue that she shouldn’t be doing this after I’d supported her for so many years (emotional argument). I could say again that my ability to book events wasn’t dependent on my weight (she hadn’t said it was). But my job as president was to be the club’s representative. And there was no getting around the fact that as far as the Curvy Girls Club was concerned, I no longer fit in.
‘Is this how you all feel?’
There were tears in Jane’s eyes. ‘I can’t think of a reason to argue against her. Except that we’re friends and it’s not fair.’
‘Fair to whom?’ Pixie asked. ‘It’s our job to do what’s best for the club. If having the wrong image will stop people from joining then we need to address that.’
‘Is there any evidence that this is the case?’ Ellie asked. ‘Because we can go on pure conjecture, but unless there’s evidence that Katie is putting people off – sorry, Katie, you know what I mean – then I won’t vote to remove her.’
I felt such love for my best friend in that moment that the sick feeling in my tummy subsided.
But Pixie was prepared. She pulled a small pile of papers from her desk drawer. ‘These are some of the comments the clients have put on the speed-dating surveys.’ She began reading from the sheets. ‘“Easy for people like Katie, but not for the rest of us.”’
‘Let me see that,’ I said, snatching the paper. ‘This doesn’t prove anything. This comment could have been about anything, not just my weight.’
‘And this,’ she continued. ‘“Katie is looking great – are we still the Curvy Girls Club?” Or: “Great night but I’m a bit confused. Why is a thin person hosting an event for us?”’
Now Ellie looked as despondent as I felt. I was losing everything.
‘Go ahead, then,’ I said. ‘You need to vote based on the evidence.’
‘Do you want to say anything else?’ Pixie asked.
I shook my head, watching the meeting as if I wasn’t part of it. And in a way, I wasn’t. Since the vote was directly about me, our club rules meant that I had to abstain anyway.
Pixie’s hand went up, as I knew it would.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Ellie said, slowly raising her hand. Jane didn’t need to raise hers.
So that was it. I was no longer president of the club I’d founded. Nearly a bloodless coup. Just a lot of internal bleeding.
‘Who will be president then?’ I asked.
‘I guess we’ll need to decide,’ Jane said. ‘But we don’t have to do it now, do we? I’d rather not make any more major decisions tonight.’
Ellie caught my eye. ‘We do have one more vote to take though,’ Ellie reminded us. ‘Katie wants more hours. That’s still possible, right, now that she’s … that her role has changed?’
‘Anything’s possible,’ Pixie said. ‘But we’ve got limited funds, as we know. Katie? Why do you want the extra hours?’
‘You know why I want them, Pixie. I’ve lost my job and I need to pay my mortgage. Now that we’re growing the dating business, I can work with Rob to create the website, and run all the extra events.’ My heart pounded in my throat. Suddenly my simple solution didn’t seem so simple. ‘I need another two days a week, minimum.’
‘Well, as it happens,’ Pixie said. ‘So do I. It looks like we’re after the same thing.’
‘You don’t need those hours, Pixie. I know for a fact that Trevor is paying maintenance for you and the children. You might want them, but you don’t need them.’
She ignored me. ‘We need to look at who’s better qualified to work for Fat Friends. Me, who proposed the idea to begin with and has championed it every step of the way? Or Katie, who did everything she could to stop it from happening? Who do you think, logically, would make a better representative for our new business venture?’
Subtly she gestured at her own belly, as if to declare: Behold! I am wide of girth and fit to lead you.
‘Not again!’ said Jane. ‘I don’t want to be caught between you two. I feel like we’re taking sides personally, and I resent it. What has got into you lately? You’ve been on opposite sides for months now.’
I had my theories but wasn’t about to accuse Pixie of being thinnist. There was a time and place for that. Tonight we had club business to get through.
‘I’m sorry, Jane,’ I said. ‘But we are going to have to vote, because I need an answer.’
She nodded. ‘You’re right. Of course.’
I steeled myself for my last effort. ‘You all know how devoted to the club I am, and have always been. You know how I’ve run it as president and I hope you know what a good job I can do with the dating business. Just because I didn’t support it initially doesn’t mean that I don’t support it now. I voted for it too, remember? Pixie did a lot of work to persuade me that it was a good idea. So … vote for me.’ I made a cheesy victory sign.
Pixie spoke up. ‘Well, given that we’ve already established that Katie doesn’t portray the right image for the club, I don’t see how we can then turn around and say she’s the right representative for its dating business. Okay, maybe she could help develop the website but we need someone who can also do the publicity and attend the events. Again, this isn’t personal. It’s a business and we’ve got to think about what the clients want. All the comments I read before came from speed-dating clients. Those were their words, not mine.’
I knew she’d go for the smear campaign.
‘So,’ I said. ‘Your whole pitch is based on the fact that your waistline is bigger than mine?’
‘No, Katie. First of all, it’s based on the fact that I’ve done a good job for the club these past months. Are you implying that I haven’t? That I’m only here as a fat charity case?’
‘That’s not what I’m saying.’ The bullies in school used the same tactics, taunting me until I defended myself and then using my words against me.
‘Good. Then you agree that I’ve done a good job. I’m also the one with the experience when it comes to the dating side. I’ve set it up, remember? Rob and I worked together on the flyers and other promotions. I’m also saying that I can be at the front of the business as a fitting representative.’
I couldn’t argue with her experience. What did I bring to the dating side of the business? A six-year crush that ended in humiliation and a steadfast objection to Fat Friends. I wouldn’t hire me.
So I wasn’t surprised when Jane and Ellie had to vote in Pixie’s favour. They had no choice based on the hard evidence, but they must have felt like jurors unable to convict a guilty man because of a technicality.
There wasn’t much left to say after the vote, and nobody felt like eating turkey sausage rolls or cookies together. Ellie asked if I wanted her to come home with me but I waved her off to Thomas’s. I wanted to be alone to lick my wounds.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
I didn’t feel much better the next morning as I stomped through horizontal rain on the way to the club’s offices to work my paltry one day a week. Sleep hadn’t put everything into proportion, or showed me that it was all for the best. It just stirred a big helping of pissed-off into my insomnia.
Who gets fired twice in a week? Sixteen-year-old slackers who steal from the till, maybe, or stoners caught sparking up in the storeroom. Not responsible adults who’ve worked years in their job and happen to be pretty damn good at it.
I pushed open the café door, pleased by the humid wall of heat that greeted me.
‘Two cappuccinos to take away, please,’ I said to the harried young waitress when the customers in front of me finished placing their order. Rob was always buying me coffee. Jobless or not, it wa
s about time I repaid the favour.
‘What are you doing here?’ Rob said as he blew through the café door in a gust of windy rain. He looked like he’d swum over.
‘Buying our coffees,’ I said, holding up the small Styrofoam cups. I liked that our café hadn’t gone over to paper cups. They reminded me of the Welcome Breaks Dad always stopped at when we drove out to Cornwall to visit his sister in the school holidays. I still liked to leave teeth marks in the edge of the cup.
‘Are you morally opposed to an umbrella?’ I asked as we made our way to the offices. ‘Or didn’t you notice the hurricane when you left this morning?’
‘This? This isn’t rain. It’s a fine mist at best.’ His face began to drip.
‘Here,’ I said, trying to hold the umbrella over him. The wind whipped the canopy, nearly embedding a spoke in his temple.
He held the umbrella safely away from himself. ‘I’m fine, really, though I don’t know what I’m going to do with my hair.’
When he smiled like that, the cheeky bugger with his hair all wind-whipped, my heart did a little hop, skip, jump, and a backflip for good measure. That wasn’t the thyroid.
‘To what do I owe such a generous welcome?’ he asked as we let ourselves into the offices.
‘I have much to tell you and I don’t want you nodding off.’
He held up David’s latest creature – it looked like an iguana eating a mouse. ‘At what point do we need to alert the authorities that my cousin may be a danger to neighbourhood pets?’
‘I think that time has passed. As a family member, aren’t you worried that one day you’ll have ITV News camped in your front garden wanting to know if he was always a strange boy?’
‘I’d like to think this is what keeps him sane. Anyway, what’s happening that requires so much caffeine?’
‘Last night we met to vote on me working a few more days for the club. And they ended up voting me out as president.’
I could see he was stunned. ‘I didn’t expect that. I thought you were going to go on about your love life.’
Ouch, that smarted. But why shouldn’t he be utterly casual about the possibility? We were just friends after all.
The Curvy Girls Club Page 26
