by Amanda Egan
I put my bag back on the floor and tried to remain poised. ‘OK. Yes … erm … good. Yes, very good. I’ll do next time.’
Just the thought filled me with a bubble of excitement. He liked me enough to give me another whirl! Boy, this ‘playing girlie’ lark might be exhausting but it obviously paid off.
The bill settled, we set off for the walk back to the club to check that everything had been satisfactorily repaired for that night’s opening. As we dodged the traffic to cross the road, Luke laid a protective hand on my waist and he didn’t move it once we hit the pavement.
It felt good. It felt right and I looked up at him and smiled. It wasn’t often that happened! Looking up at someone was a very rare occurrence for me and the face that I looked into was really rather gorgeous. I had to stop an involuntary little gasp. He was hot and he wanted to see me again - that made me one lucky lady.
But I realised that fortune really was shining down on me when we entered the night club. The guys were just finishing up and the place was looking immaculate. Nobody would ever have guessed what had gone on the night before and I felt a wave of relief.
‘Oh wow! Thank you so much - all of you - and you too, Luke. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’
Luke simply shrugged and looked uncomfortable. ‘I told you, it’s nothing. You guys can get off now,’ he called to the workers tidying away their tools and then he went over and had a quiet word to them. I was straining to hear what was said but it was impossible - and for a fleeting moment I thought I may have seen him put his hand to his pocket and pass something to one of them.
If it was cash, I’d be upset. He’d said they owed him a favour and I didn’t want him to have to be out of pocket.
When he returned to me I was left with no chance to ask the question as he instantly hit me with his own.
‘It’s your night off tomorrow, isn’t it? Don’t the owners get back? What d’you say to hitting the town?’
What did I say?! I said ‘Yes.’ Very much yes!
*****
I was just about dead on my feet when I got home that night so was not best pleased to find Dopey Diana waiting on my doorstep again.
It took me a while to realise that it was her, as she was a shadow of her former self. Gone were the extensions, the fake tan, lashes and nails - she was make up free and looking tinier than ever in a sloppy tracksuit and flat ballet pumps.
She must have noticed my reaction because she smiled shyly and asked if she could come in for a while.
‘I mean, I know it’s terribly late Percy but I need a little advice,’ she added.
I opened the front door and flicked the lights on. Dad was obviously still out and Bogey ran to me with a purr and a clumsy thud against my leg.
‘Come through to the kitchen, Diana. I’ll get us both a drink.’ I chucked my keys and bag on the hall table and, kicking my heels off, padded barefoot to the kitchen.
Once seated at the breakfast bar, I could take in the full transformation of my neighbour - and it was pretty extreme. She accepted the glass of wine I’d poured and then cleared her throat. ‘Well, what do you think?’
‘Well … you look great but … Diana, I have to ask the question. Why?’
Diana flushed a little - not the massive beetroot red I was renowned for - just a subtle little tint of colour. I made a mental note to try to perfect that technique, it was far more flattering.
She smoothed her now shoulder length hair behind her ears and leant forward on the stool. The huge bosoms were still firmly in place but I guess there was only so far she could turn back time. ‘I really like Tom, Percy,’ she almost whispered, as if he were in the room next door and might hear. ‘He’s a decent guy and I kind of got the impression that he liked me too but that he was a bit put off by all the added gloss - so I made the changes for him.’ Her pretty eyes suddenly filled with tears and she flapped her hand in front of her face to try to stop them. ‘Oh Percy! He hasn’t called and I really wanted to see him again. To see if he liked me more like this. Why do I always stuff up?’
I pulled my stool closer to hers, handing her a tissue. ‘Aww, Diana. I’m sure he’ll be in touch. I think he liked you too. But do you really want to go to all this trouble to nab a bloke? I mean, weren’t you happy the way you were?’
She sniffed and dabbed gently at her eyes. ‘Oh it was OK, I suppose. But it did get a bit boring trying to keep it up all the time. I was spending about twenty hours a week in various salons around town. Not to mention the ridiculous cost!’ She sipped at her drink and then added, ‘I guess I realised that I was forking out almost as much on my appearance as I was managing to raise for charity. It all seemed a bit self-indulgent.’
Wow! Diana wasn’t quite so dopey after all and I felt myself warming to her. Her heart was clearly in the right place and I realised that Tom could do a lot worse for himself.
‘He’s probably just been really busy,’ I told her. ‘You know what men are like, they can only concentrate on one thing at a time. He’ll be in touch.’
I could say that quite confidently because I fully intended to get on the phone to him and give him a jolly good talking to as soon as I could. If he didn’t want to see her again, he could at least have told her. Bloody men!
‘Do you really think he will, Percy? And do you think he’ll like the new me? Oh I hope he does. He’s the nicest man I’ve met in the longest time.’
It astounded me that with all that beauty and the perfect package body, she was still desperately insecure. She was really no different to me. Well, in dress sizes she was very different, but underneath all that we were just the same - battling through life, longing for love and praying we’d find it.
‘You look really pretty, by the way, Percy. That dress is lovely on you and your make up’s fab. Your new job obviously suits you. Shame they’re all gay though, isn’t it? I mean how will you ever meet a man?’
That was just the cue I needed. Cracking open another bottle and filling a bowl with crisps, I excitedly filled my previously irritating but now new found friend in on the details of my new man and then picked her brains for tips and advice.
Diana was going to be very useful to me.
Chapter Seventeen
The following lunch time found me booked into a top-notch beauty salon for a selection of procedures that I knew existed but had never contemplated.
Diana had been great. She’d told me which treatments to try and even offered to arrange the last minute appointment at her favourite salon. I’d drawn the line at hair extensions and Botox - the trout pout was not the look for me and Diana had sulked a little when I’d told her as much.
Standing in a pair of paper knickers whilst being gunned down with what looked like creosote wasn’t a position I’d ever expected to find myself in, but then legs akimbo for the taming of my lady garden had never been on the agenda either.
That wasn’t an experience I intended to ever repeat. Eyes watering and nether regions smarting, I vowed there and then never to let ‘things’ get out of control again. If I could just control it with a tube of ‘Immac’ and a razor I’d be one happy bunny, but the waxing was most certainly my first and last. I hoped that the next time I felt such excruciating pain ‘downstairs’ it would result in a bundle of joy being placed in my arms and not just for a tidy froufrou.
Being wrapped in what seemed like thirty miles of cling-film was also slightly odd and a tad unnerving. I found myself wondering what would happen if there was an emergency and I had to hobble onto the street like a supersized oven ready turkey. I’d been told it would instantly remove toxins and several inches from my hips, waist, thighs, arms and bum. At that rate I’d go in as a family-sized turkey and came out as a sparrow. I figured that I had nothing to lose but my dignity and flab.
Once my ‘cooking time’ was up, I was removed from my plastic prison and told I’d lost the grand total of twelve inches around my various limbs. I couldn’t help feeling that the tape measure
had been squeezed just a tad tighter for the second reading but then I was a cynic. If they told me I’d lost twelve then I had to believe them. It was probably a case of mind over matter - think slimmer, be slimmer.
The next step was my eyebrows. Now I’d always thought I’d done a perfectly acceptable job of keeping them plucked and preened but the professional threading made me realise that there was always room for improvement. It was an eye-opener, in more ways than one.
I became slightly concerned when Shaz, my beautician for the day, had finished my eyebrows and then began happily threading her way all over my face - cheeks, chin, upper lip - nowhere escaped her eager fingers. Was I really that hairy? Had I been walking around like the incredible bearded lady and nobody had told me? I decided it might be time for a trip to Specsavers next but was quickly reassured by Shaz that she was just removing stray hairs and down.
Down? Wasn’t that something ducks had? Surely not humans? And how come I’d had it for so long and never realised it needed to be dealt with? And more worryingly, now it had been removed, would it grow back really quickly and I’d wake one morning looking like a werewolf?
Oh boy, what had I started?
Manicure and pedicure complete, I couldn’t help thinking that my fingernails were just a touch too ‘porn star’ for me but Shaz assured me it was ‘the look’ and that they were great. They certainly made me use my hands in a different way and they also stopped my terribly unfeminine habit of ruffling my hair and scratching my head. Nail extensions and newly coiffed hair were a bad combination.
Leaving the salon, I felt as if I was walking on air. I’d been professionally ‘done over’. So had my bank account but I pushed that thought from my mind. I had a date that night and I was primped, preened and ready for my close-up.
I just needed to make a quick trip to the club to catch up with Annie and Tittie and then I’d head home for a shower and another flick through my wardrobe before my date.
What Diana had given up, I’d taken up! How ironic!
I walked down the street with my head held high humming, ‘Man! I Feel Like A Woman’.
*****
Annie and Tittie were in the back office sharing a pot of tea and looking more relaxed than I’d ever thought possible. Their break had obviously done them good and I decided I’d make sure they got away more often.
As I walked in, Tittie stood and approached me, looking at me in minute detail. ‘Well hubba hubba! Look at you, Missus. We go away for two days and come back to a new you.’
I grinned like the proverbial Cheshire Cat - minus the whiskers now - and struck an exaggerated pose. ‘You like?’
Annie also came over for a closer inspection and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Ding dong, Perce! You look totes amaze.’ He then jumped back from me with his hand over his nose. ‘Shit, Perce. You stink. What’s that rank pong?’
I sniffed at my arm and grimaced. ‘Ah, that’ll be the fake tan. I need to leave it to develop and then shower. It is a bit ‘on the nose’ isn’t it?’
‘You’re not wrong there but the overall look is fabby. What brought all this on? Hmm? Going well with Lover Boy is it?’
I grabbed a mug from the top of the filing cabinet and joined them at the desk. I needed to tell them all that had happened while they were away as I’d decided that withholding information from them could only end in tears. I wanted them to know that they could trust me implicitly and, if they found out about the outbreak of trouble from someone else, I figured it would make me look bad. I’d dealt with the episode successfully and normality had been restored. I had nothing to hide.
So, sipping at my tea, I started tentatively and began at the beginning. By the time I’d got to the end of the story, my palms were sweating and my heart was racing.
I knew that I couldn’t have prevented anything that had happened and was in no way to blame but I still felt incredibly guilty. I sat waiting for their reactions feeling like an overgrown school girl in front of the Head Master and Deputy.
They sat for a while, taking in all that I’d told them, and then Annie went to the filing cabinet and poured us all a snifter of brandy - his stock standard answer to everything!
‘Oh, Percy! What can we say? I’m just so sorry that it had to happen while we were away. We’ve never had more than a minor scuffle in as long as I can remember. It must have been awful for you.’
I shrugged my shoulders and said, ‘Well it all happened so quickly, there wasn’t really time to think about it. Betty was great - he helped to chuck the trouble makers out. And as for Luke … well … as I said, I couldn’t have coped without him.’
Annie nodded, ‘Yeah and I bet the others just faffed around in the corner acting like big girls, eh? Useless lot! Well, all I can say is, the club looks great and the takings were way up for the weekend. Thanks so much Perce, you did a great job.’
Tittie threw his brandy down his throat and slammed the glass down for more. ‘Well excuse me guys but let’s get down to the nitty gritty here. There was a little bout of fisty cuffs. Check! Perce dealt with it. Check! Perce was unhurt. Check! Now let’s focus on the important part.’ He thumped Annie on the knee and, with eyes shining, said, ‘Bugger the sodding business for a minute will you? Didn’t you hear who helped her sort it all out? Her knight in linen shirt. That’s what we want to hear more about.’
Our glasses re-filled, we settled for a gossip and suddenly I felt overtly feminine and girlie. I could think of nothing better than chatting with my eccentric friends and bringing them up to date on my blossoming romance.
Tittie stopped me mid-sentence, just as I was describing the feeling of Luke’s arm around my waist when we’d crossed the road. ‘Oh cut the crap will you, Perce? Have you shagged him yet? That’s all we really want to know.’
*****
I could only describe our second date as ‘strained.’ The relaxed banter had gone and the conversation had become stilted. I’d left the flat to meet him, feeling polished and excited but my high expectations of a fun filled night had rapidly disintegrated.
Luke had kissed me briefly on the cheek when we met in the designated wine bar and I’d taken the subtle checking out of my new look as a good sign. The tan had taken well, my face was a walking advert for every cosmetic company known to woman and my dress was just on the right side of clingy.
I noticed him do a double take when he spotted my new nails and I hope he wasn’t having the same thoughts that I’d had when I’d first seen them. Perhaps they needed to go - I certainly missed a good old head scratch and the more nervous I was getting the more I felt I needed to get one in.
We headed off to a cosy Italian restaurant and I hoped that the evening would take a turn for the better. I kept the conversation going as best I could but couldn’t help feeling that I was flogging a dead horse. The chemistry had gone, he seemed distant and detached and I could sense that he wasn’t entirely comfortable in my company.
Here we go again! Another one bites the dust before it even got from first base. ‘Good Old Perce’ blows it once more.
As always with nerves, I found myself drinking too much, talking mindless crap and picking ineffectually at my food. If I’d had a grain of sense, I’d have feigned illness and gone home with my well groomed tail between my legs but I still wanted to salvage what I could.
By the time the bill came I knew the evening was over. There would be no heading off for a nightcap, no sneaky snog in the back of a cab and definitely no ‘Fancy a coffee back at my place? Nudge, nudge, wink, wink’.
As we headed out to the street, there was no protective hand on my waist when we crossed the road to the taxi rank and, as he herded me into the first waiting cab, he gave me another brief peck on the cheek and said, ‘See you around, Percy.’
Settling back into my seat, I ripped off my false eyelashes and stuffed them into my bag in temper.
Nobody could have a good old sob with a couple of tarantulas glued to their eyelids.
*****
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I was relieved to find that Dad was out. I just wanted to be on my own to get on with my sulk and wallow in some self pity for a while. I kicked off my agonisingly painful shoes - why did I ever think they were a good idea? - and made for the bathroom.
The sight that greeted me was pitiful. My tan had turned ‘Essex Orange’, my eyes were smudged from the crying and, after attempting a head scratch with my new talons, my hair was sticking out at scarecrow angles from my head.
I pulled off my dress and underwear and threw myself under the shower. I scrubbed furiously at my Jaffa tinted skin and then removed every trace of make up with soap and a flannel. Desperate for a hot chocolate and a snuggle with Bogey, I dried myself as quickly as I could and pulled on my oldest pyjamas and holey bed socks. In a perverse attempt to make myself look as unattractive as possible, I smothered my face in greasy moisturiser and scraped my hair back into a scrunchie.
