Stilettos & Stubble

by Amanda Egan

  ‘Well where did you meet her? And why did you ask her on a date in the first place?’

  ‘I broke my own cardinal rule and agreed to go on a blind date.’ He shook his head and raised his eyes heavenwards. ‘If I ever say I’m going on another one, you have my permission to bind and gag me and lock me in the wardrobe until the madness passes.’

  ‘Oh Tom! She can’t have been that bad. Your friends wouldn’t set you up with a total minger.’

  ‘No, no. She wasn’t a minger. Just desperate and eager and …. Ugh!’ He shuddered at the recall of it and topped up both our wine glasses. ‘She was practically offering me a blow job before we’d even finished the bread-sticks. And the way she was nibbling suggestively on them made me feel quite unwell. I’m all for a bit of fun, Perce, but it fair put me off slurping my oysters. I mean, if she offers services that freely, I don’t know where she’s been, do I? There’s got to be a Mrs Right out there for me somewhere. I’m sick of solitary weekends now.’

  As if on cue, there was a tiny little tap on my front door, followed by, ‘Percy! Hiya! Only me, Diana. I heard you come in. Are you still up?’

  Tom sat bolt upright in his seat and grimaced. ‘Bugger! That’s all I bloody need. Buoyant Barbie and her Buxom Boobies.’

  I giggled and told him to shush as I made my way to the door to let her in.

  Diana stopped in her tracks when she spotted Tom sitting on my sofa and instantly adopted her cat-walk model sashay. ‘Well hel-lo! We meet again. Must be fate!’ she purred as she slid onto the cushion next to him. Tom made a sorry attempt at smiling and shuffled a little further away from her.

  Offering her a drink, I asked Diana why she’d been looking for me and if everything was OK.

  She smiled, the usual sickly sweet variety, and licked her perfect rosebud lips before answering. ‘Oh yes, everything’s just hunky dory. I just wanted to ask if I could leave this key with you for tomorrow to let the decorators in.’ She dangled a key ring the size of a crystal chandelier and then placed it on the table without waiting for my response. ‘But how fortuitous that I should need to come back when you have your charming friend here.’ She turned full on to face Tom and did her standard hair-flicky thing, causing her boobs to wobble furiously in her skin tight vest top.

  Tom tried desperately to avert his eyes but was clearly losing the battle. They were boobies of special allure. I’d been know to fall under their spell myself so I couldn’t say I blamed him.

  Diana saw this as an opportunity for match point. Nothing escaped her overly made up eyes and, while she had the advantage, she went for the kill. ‘Tom? I have two tickets to a rather swish charity ball for Friday night and …’ - her lashes were fluttered and the lids lowered in an extra special plea for sympathy - ‘… I have no one to go with.’ She paused for effect, releasing a huge sigh which ended in another little booby wiggle. ‘Take me Tom. Please say you’ll take me.’

  I was impressed, I have to say! Never had I seen such blatant flirting or porn star tactics used to such a degree and I had to stifle my laughter as Tom shifted uncomfortably in his seat and struggled to find his voice.

  His first attempt sounded a little too high pitched but he managed to clear his throat and resumed with a more manly pitch. ‘OK … yeah, why not?’

  Well you could have knocked me down with one of Lubov’s feathers. Tom had just agreed to go on a date with Dopey Diana. I’d seen it all now!

  Diana bounced up and down on the sofa like an over-excited Andrex puppy, sending her own puppies into overdrive. I looked at Tom and his eyes were glazed. I’d lost him to the seductive hypnotism of the Silicone Fairy. He was no different to the rest of the male population after all.

  Mission accomplished, Diana finished the last of her wine and stood to leave. ‘Get to me about seven-thirty Tom and I’ll make sure I order a cab so that we can have a little drinkie-poos. Ciao!’

  I returned from showing Diana the door to find Tom still in the same position with a hazy expression on his face. I walked directly to him and clicked my fingers in front of his eyes, saying, ‘And … you’re back in the room!’

  Tom jumped and looked at me, startled. ‘Wha…? What happened there? Please don’t tell me I just agreed to go out with her. I didn’t, did I?’

  I began to laugh and shook my head in despair. ‘You really are quite pathetic, do you know that? You just got totally hypnotised by a pair of hooters. Serves you right if she chews you up and spits you out. You deserve everything you’ve got coming!’

  Tom frowned and then downed his drink in one. ‘Why didn’t you stop me, Perce? She trapped me and you sat back and watched it happen.’

  ‘Oh come off it! You were a lost cause at the first jiggle. Typical bloody man. Now get your tongue back in and sod off home. I need my beauty sleep. We don’t all have mesmerising mammaries to trap men with - some of us have to rely on our looks!’

  He stood, albeit a little shakily. ‘Think I’ll leave the car here and walk home, Perce. I’m feeling a little on the woozy side.’

  I opened the door and pushed him out. ‘No sympathy I’m afraid, Buddy. The fresh air might do you some good - failing that, have a nice cold shower when you get home. Night!’

  I locked up and made my way to the bathroom to clean my teeth, betting that Dopey Diana had never flashed manky drawers at a man in her life.

  As I did a final rinse, I could feel myself flushing at the indignity of it once more.

  Oh well, tomorrow was another day and with any luck I’d wake up in the morning, find it was all a bad dream and that the Booby Fairy had visited me too.

  Boy, Diana was good!

  Chapter Twelve

  Sadly there was no increased swelling in my pyjama top the following morning and my waking thought was of ‘Knicker Gate.’ The offending items had been binned the previous night and I promised myself a trip to M&S to stock up on some new ones.

  I heard my mother’s voice once again ringing in my ears. ‘Always wear nice panties, Persephone. If you get run over by a number 14 bus it’s not pleasant for the ambulance men to see nasties.’

  Only my mother could consider her Rigby & Pellar’s whilst undergoing roadside mouth to mouth. Only she could call greying undies ‘nasties’!

  Not wanting to dwell on my tart of a mother, I went to the kitchen to feed my greedy cat and see if Dad was up. Another note was propped against a bag of fresh croissants on the breakfast bar.

  ‘Morning! Wanted to get an early start. Looking at three flats today. Thought I might pop into the club and see you and the gals tonight! xx’

  I guess I had to be grateful for the fact that he seemed to have remained remarkably upbeat and, as my hackles rose once more at the thought of my mother, my mobile signalled a text.

  And, speak of the devil, it was from her. The lying, cheating, cowbag of a mother who had treated me like dirt and had now broken my father’s heart.

  I was in two minds as to whether I should open it but curiosity got the better of me and I clicked on ‘read’.

  ‘Persephone. I have booked a table at Figaro’s for 1 today. Be there. We need to speak. Wear something nice.’

  Grrrrr! How dare she just assume that I could drop everything just to see her? And why did she have to tell me to wear ‘something nice’? The spoiled brat in me wanted to turn up in my pyjamas just to see the look of horror on her stupid Botoxed face.

  As I shovelled croissant crumbs into my mouth and stared miserably out of the window, my only saving grace was that I had a wardrobe full of new clothes to choose from.

  But, deep down, I knew that whatever I wore would be met by the disapproval in my mother’s artificially lifted eyes.

  *****

  ‘Persephone, that top is very pretty on you but there’s no point in wearing nice clothes if you don’t carry yourself properly. Put your shoulders back, there’s a good girl.’

  My mother was toying with a lettuce leaf and sipping on over-priced mineral water. Her recent ‘c
osmetic aid’ and new man had encouraged her to go down the detox route. Just spending half an hour in her company had left me feeling so toxic I’d defy any regime to ever rid me of my rising venom.

  In the short time I’d spent with her, she’d insulted my hair, told me I looked tired/bloated/pre-menstrual and then almost had a ‘Tena Lady Moment’ when I told her about my new job.

  The only upside was that, after her fillers and jabs, she was now totally unable to frown at me - something she’d spent most of her life doing - and I found myself wondering if she’d ever have needed ‘help’ if she hadn’t been so perpetually disappointed in me. Well serves her right. Every line and wrinkle she’d acquired, she deserved.

  ‘Now Persephone. I’d like you to come to supper on Saturday night. You need to meet Nigel now I’ve moved him in and if you come in your father’s car you can load up some more of his crap and take it home with you.’ She pushed her plate of nibbled lettuce away in disdain and studied her perfect cuticles before looking to me for my response. ‘Percy? Saturday. Eight o’clock. OK?’

  Not for one second did she think that I’d say no. Mother spoke, everyone jumped. It was just the way it had always been. Well, I’d had enough.

  Gesturing to the waitress, I asked her to bring me a large glass of Merlot and a slice of their delicious triple chocolate desert cake. Within one sentence I’d pissed my mother off. A) she had to sit and watch me drink alcohol, which she was clearly gagging for and B) she had to endure the embarrassment of the other size zero customers wondering why she was allowing her HUGE daughter to eat cake.

  Ha!

  As I sipped on my wine and savoured every last mouthful of the delicious cake that I really didn’t need, I fixed my mother with my bravest look and said, ‘No Mum. No can do. I’m working Saturday night and, quite frankly, I have no desire to meet Nigel anyway.’

  Too elegant to splutter, although coming very close, she swallowed her sip of water and replaced the glass on the table. ‘Work? Oh for goodness sake, you don’t call that work do you? Just take the bloody night off - no one will miss you.’

  I wiped my mouth with my serviette and picked up my bag. ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I will be missed and I don’t think you heard me properly. Maybe your hearing’s going. I DO NOT WISH TO MEET NIGEL.’ I enunciated very slowly and clearly, as if speaking to an elderly granny. ‘Thanks for lunch but I really need to be getting on. By the way, the one piece of lettuce that you did manage to introduce to your mouth has got stuck in your teeth. I’d ask for a tooth pick if I were you.’ And, with that, I threw my bag over my shoulder and left.

  The picture of her sitting in stunned silence as I looked back at her through the window was priceless.

  *****

  Lady Ga-Garden and Vi Geena had been driving us all mad with their constant digs and snipes. It had obviously become a habit that made it impossible for them to be civil to one another. At every available opportunity they’d commence another round of insults which usually ended in slammed doors and mumbled expletives.

  Lubov and Betty La Muff were sitting quietly in the changing room playing a game of poker and I’d just been introduced to another act, Ma Might, whose introductory tag line was, ‘You’ll either love me or hate me’. Ma was ready for her act and perched on a stool in the corner, knitting and humming.

  I was relieved to get to front of house just to get away from the tension backstage and I accosted Annie when he eventually came through the door, just after seven.

  ‘Things are a lot more peaceful around here on the nights that Lady and Vi aren’t in. Do they ever bloody stop?’ I asked as I tidied my desk and prepared for opening.

  ‘Yeah, it can get a bit tiresome, Sugartits, but I have a cunning plan. What are you doing after the show tonight? I think it might be time for a little soirée chez Annie and Tittie’s.’

  ‘Well I’m not doing anything but I don’t see how a party is going to stop those two threatening to murder one another.’

  Annie smiled and gave me a little wink. ‘Trust me. It works every time. They get a few bevvies in them and by the end of the evening they’ll be bosom buddies. Works like a charm for a few months and then they’re at it again.’

  I didn’t see why they just couldn’t be more tolerant of one another all of the time. It seemed such a waste of energy and I voiced this to Annie.

  ‘I totally agree, Hun, but it’s just the way they are. Now I’m off to let the girls know and I’ll do the rounds later and see if a few of the regulars want to pop along - the more the merrier, eh? Yeah, I’m just in the mood for a little partay. It’ll do us all good.’

  Annie left me alone in reception and, as I was already organised for the night ahead, I stuck my USB key into the club’s computer and copied my novel across to it. I’d decided to use the quiet times during the evenings to try to knock ‘Love, Lust and Lies’ into some sort of shape so that it didn’t have quite so much of the ‘cringe factor’.

  I still had almost an hour until opening time so I settled back and opened Chapter One.

  Mia had a point. On reading through, Marco sounded more like a sleazy, greasy, bum-pinching Italian stud than a hunky, romantic love interest. And my heroine was just a wet, one-dimensional bimbo who spent her life sobbing, simpering and sighing. I don’t know what I’d been thinking but there was really no way I could work with what I’d written. I’d have to start again.

  Ten years! I’d spent a decade of my life trying to create a love story that people would want to read and it was a pile of steaming crap - there really was no other way of describing it. I threw myself back in the chair, closing my eyes and rubbing my aching shoulders. I suddenly became aware of somebody standing behind me and leaning over the back of my gilt throne.

  ‘Oooer, what’s this missus? ‘He kissed her swollen lips and ran his hands along her elegant spine. She felt herself dissolve, become liquid at his touch.’ Wow, steamy stuff, eh? Did you write it, Doll?’

  I turned to see Tittie in all his finery, eyes gleaming and ready for the goss. Quickly, clicking away from the open document, I felt myself colouring as I answered unsteadily. ‘Yes. Yes … I did but … well, it’s absolute shit, Tittie. Please don’t tell anyone about it. It’s just a silly little hobby really, nothing else.’

  He rested his hand on my shoulder. ‘Don’t put yourself down, Perce. It looked great to me. I love a cheesy romance - nothing like a good old laugh is there?

  Sighing wearily I did my best to paste on a cheery smile. ‘That’s right Tittie, nothing like a good old laugh.’

  That was it. The decision was made. My writer’s dream was over and, once again, I was ‘Funny Old Perce’.

  *****

  Annie left the club early to get back to his and Tittie’s flat and prepare it for the party. By the time I arrived with the rest of the queens, the huge kitchen table was laden with drinks and delicious looking food, smoky jazz was playing in the background and the lights were low with flickering candles.

  I made my way to their loo for a quick freshen up and was delighted to see that I was still looking pretty good after a long night at the club. Tittie had supplied me with a glorious heavy jersey dress in the deepest midnight blue. It gave me curves I quite simply never knew I had and did a fab job of picking out the colour in my eyes.

  After a quick dab of lip gloss and a ‘zhoosh’ of my hair (my new found talent as taught to me by Tittie!), I found my way back to the kitchen and helped myself to a drink. Turning to talk to Lady, in the vain hope that it would stop him striking up a spat with Vi, I was astonished to see my father standing in the corner deep in conversation with Lubov.

  ‘Daddy?’ I went to join them at the window. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’ I kissed him on the cheek and smiled at Lubov. ‘I mean it’s great to see you but …’

  Dad laughed and looked a little uncomfortable. ‘Yeah sorry about this, Perce. Not enough that you have to live with your old dad, is it? He has to go muscling in on your social
life as well.’ He put his hand on my arm. ‘Hope you don’t mind, love, it’s just I was over the road at ‘The Queen’s Head’ having a drink with a few of the locals and, as I left, I bumped into Lubov and a couple of the others. They invited me along. Not in your way, am I?’

  ‘Course you’re not. Don’t be silly - it’s great that you’re getting out and about and, if I know Annie and Tittie, this should be a great night.’ I sipped my drink and found myself thinking how weird it was that my dad had become part of the gay and drag scene. There he was, looking perfectly comfortable in his surroundings, chatting happily away to the mysterious Lubov who looked as stunning as ever, even in the drab shapeless garb he insisted on wearing when not in full drag.