by Amanda Egan
Luke was placing tiny little kisses all over my neck and face. He ended with one on the end of my nose and then placed his forehead against mine, looking deep into my eyes. ‘But as my wife, what’s mine is yours. What d’ya say, Persephone Mortimer?’
*****
We were all stuffed to bursting. After a huge spread of delicate little canapés and champagne, we moved on to present opening and more champagne. Bogey paddy-pawed his way through the wrapping paper, delighted to be reunited with Luke and clearly over the moon with his new plush house.
After devouring a massive turkey with all the trimmings, the queens did their own version of our sovereign’s speech which had us all holding our sides in agony.
Flopping with restorative brandies (and a Lubov-enforced mint tea for dad) we chatted happily but lazily. Annie had put on a Bing Crosby CD, singing the most popular carols and talk turned to the club’s facelift.
‘I reckon if we keep the club open until New Year’s Eve, we could start work then and be up and running by spring. What do you think, boss?’ Annie asked Luke.
Luke was playing with my hair as I lay back on his chest. ‘Will you stop calling me boss? I’m just giving you a little helping hand. The club’s yours Annie. Once all the paperwork is done, you just get on and do what you do best. I’m just a very silent partner, OK?’
‘Yes, boss!’ Annie mock saluted and leaned back on Tittie, grabbing himself on the crotch as he did so. ‘I wish me knackers would start to feel normal again. The thought of squeezing back into a pair of fifty deniers makes my baby blues water.’
Lady chucked a pillow at him, ‘Oh, perlease, Annie. Too much information! Will you kindly keep your sick scrote stories to yourself. I might part with those last couple of brussel sprouts if you keep on.’
Annie snuggled the pillow into his trouser area and sighed in pleasure. ‘Oooh, that’s better. Cheers Lady! Now, I believe we have a wedding to discuss. I still cannot believe the size of that sparkler on your finger, Perce. Show us again.’
I lifted my hand and waggled it around. Annie and Tittie pretended to be blinded and Dad looked at me with a grin. Lubov took hold of my hand, turning it this way and that. ‘Vot a beauty it is. Vot a lucky girl.’
‘Your time will come, my love,’ Dad told her. ‘As soon as this divorce is through, we’re out to get you a dazzler of your own.’ He then added quickly, ‘Mind you, I can’t promise you one as big as that! Not quite got that sort of cash to flash.’
Lubov looked up at him from her seated position on the floor. ‘Votever I get, I be happy. I be vun happy Lubov.’
Vi hurled something across the room at her, ‘There you go, Lube! Have that until you get the real thing. It’s the plastic tat from my cracker.’ Dad took it and placed it on her wedding finger affectionately and then kissed her hand.
Annie jumped up and turned Bing off in his prime. ‘Oh come on guys, we’re drowning in mush here. Keep your sickly bloomin’ romances to yourself and just give me plenty of warning to get my hat sorted. Let’s play a game!’
Several rounds of manic charades later and we were all hungry again. We went en masse to Luke’s huge kitchen and began churning out sandwiches, factory style.
‘Better make a few plates extra,’ I said, ‘Mia and her lot will be here soon and we mustn’t forget Dave and Stella. I wonder if she’s pregnant yet?’
‘Where are your friends Tom and Diana, Perce?’ Dad asked. ‘I would have liked to see them again.
‘Oh, haven’t you heard? They’re off working in a soup kitchen somewhere in the City. Diana does it every Christmas, apparently. And in the New Year they’re off to climb some mountain somewhere for Diana’s favourite charity. I think Tom’s finally realised he got her all wrong.’
Annie carved through the mountain of sandwiches I passed him and said, ‘Well, Perce, as you so rightly said at the club that night, none of us are quite what we seem. None of us.’
I looked down at my faded jeans, flat ballet pumps and red gingham shirt. My hair was ruffled from lying on Luke’s chest and the funky little red bow I’d added earlier in the day was askew. I was scruffy but happy. ‘Well I think you might be wrong there, Annie. I’ve finally found who I am and I quite like me! Plus, it’s far less exhausting than trying to be something I’m not.’
*****
Dad and Lubov went for a little lie down at about seven - at least I hope that’s what they did! I was still struggling slightly with the idea of my father in the throes of passion and I pushed it to the back of my mind.
Dave and Stella arrived bearing gifts and wine and shortly afterwards Mia and James were breathless on the doorstep with two over-excited kids. ‘Let us in, let us in! We need adult company immediately!’ Mia cried. ‘We’ve been inserting batteries, constructing toys and playing ‘Old Maid’ since the crack of dawn.’ She threw her suede jacket over the banister and looked around. ‘Oooh, nice place Luke’s got, Perce! Now wow me with scintillating conversation and ply me with booze. I want to party!’
We moved through to the kitchen to give the new arrivals drinks and to do the introductions. Stella bent down to talk to Isla and Jo Jo and Dave looked over at me and shook his head sadly. I could only deduce from this that it had been another failed month and my heart went out to him.
Within a flash, a thought came to me. What had Luke said? ‘What’s mine is yours.’ I was about to become a lady of means and it wasn’t as if I was asking for a new handbag or a Tiffany necklace, was it?
I had to somehow get Luke alone for a chat. A very urgent chat.
*****
I don’t think any of us had ever experienced a Christmas day like it. We continued to scoff, we guzzled champers, we danced, we sang and we exchanged flippant banter.
Stella was lovely and threw herself into the spirit of things. She took it in turns to dance with Isla and Jo Jo and then she had a jive with Dave.
Dad and Lubov reappeared, looking refreshed and ready to tackle the rest of the evening. Lubov poured my father a small glass of red wine, saying it was good for his heart and a special occasion so it was allowed.
‘But you drink slowly, Gordon. No more today. OK?’
Dad tutted and smiled, loving every minute of her cherishing and cosseting. He looked like the cat who’d got the cream he wasn’t allowed to have.
With everything that was going on, it felt as if I’d never get the chance to sneak Luke away for a few minutes. I had to do this tonight. I wanted to play Mother Christmas and be the bearer of good tidings. I needed to complete the perfect Christmas.
I spotted Luke handing Dave a vol au vent as he finished up a conversation with him. I had to seize the moment while I could so I rushed over and grabbed his hand. ‘Luke. Can we just have a quickie?’ The queens erupted into bawdy jeers and I raised my hand to hush them. ‘OK, OK! I’ll rephrase that! I would just like to have a quick and quiet little word with my fiancé. Anyone object?’
‘No, lovie! You do what you like with him,’ Ma shouted. ‘It’s a free world and we promise not to listen this time!’
Pulling Luke through the door and into the hallway, I then guided him into the front drawing room and slammed the door behind us.
‘Easy Tiger!’ He said as he pulled me into him for a smooch.
I pushed him away, gently but firmly. ‘No, no! I really did want to talk. It’s quite important.’ I took a deep breath and then gulped. ‘You know I love you for you and not for your money, right?’
Luke nodded and smoothed my hair behind my ear. ‘Of course I do.’
‘And you know you said that once we were married, we’d … well, we’d share everything?’
‘Yes. I said that. I meant it.’
‘Well could we possibly do that before we’re married? I hate to mention it, but it’s really quite important. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.’
‘Perce, will you just get to the bloody point. What is it you want? A new car? A holiday? A flat for your dad to live in? Just tell me! The
n I can get on and snog you - this is wasting time, you know.’
‘It’s Dave. Well Dave and Stella. They need money for IVF and I thought it would be a lovely idea if we could help them.’ I stopped and waited for his answer. Would he laugh in my face? Tell me to stop being so ridiculous? Had I pushed my luck?
‘Oh, you thought it would be a lovely idea, did you, you big softie?’ He pulled me towards him by the collar of my shirt, a gesture I found incredibly sexy. ‘Well, I’m one step ahead of you, Perce. Dave has a folded cheque in his pocket as we speak. Now, shut up and kiss me.’
Two years later.
The club is closed. A sign on the door says, ‘Private Party.’ The rickety old steps are now smooth and even, the railings a shiny scarlet red and ‘The Gossamer Glove’ frontage is proud and pristine.
Inside Liza Minnelli is playing on the music system, interspersed with the sounds of chatter, laughter and a baby crying.
It’s been a while since I’ve been inside The Glove. Oh I still see the girls regularly, but my life’s very different now.
My writing went from strength to strength and I was taken on by a hot-shot agent who went on to secure me a three book deal with a major publishing house. ‘Tales from the Glove’ has been a huge success and is rising steadily up the bestseller’s list.
It had soon become clear that I’d need to give up my front of house job and devote myself fully to my new career. So I didn’t become a kept woman. I’m one of the bright young things of London now and can often be seen at functions, dinners or high profile books launches. And with my handsome husband by my side, I breeze through them with the confidence of one who knows she’s loved and cared for. Sometimes, I’ll put a bit of lippie on or a quick coat of mascara but I’m usually just bare faced and beaming. Love is the best make up there is.
When I left my position at The Glove, Lubov took over. It seemed odd for her still be to working as a drag queen and Daddy felt a little uncomfortable with blokes drooling over her. It’s all worked out just perfectly.
And my father was taken on as the club’s new accountant. Annie had admitted to being crap with money and fully accepted that a lot of the business’s downfall had been due to his habit of sticking his head in the sand. Dad went through the books with a fine toothed comb and every receipt and bill was accounted for. ‘The Gossamer Glove’ was flying.
Lubov is sitting next to me now, sipping champagne and grinning wildly. She’s dressed in a stunning Vera Wang wedding dress and has never looked happier. Her big day has finally arrived and she’s enjoying every last second of it. My father is looking young and dapper in his grey suit and he’s chatting animatedly to Luke and Annie, his health scare long behind him.
Stella and Dave are in the corner taking it in turns to pacify their baby and, although exhausted, they look content. Their dream finally came true.
Mia has joined Lubov and me at the table and she looks over to the crying baby. She puts her hand on my huge stomach and then back to her tiny bump and says, ‘Be us next, eh Perce?’
How two women can be at the same stage in pregnancy and look so completely different is beyond me - but I don’t care. I’ve been there, done this before and I know I turn into a hippo when pregnant.
The evidence is sitting on the floor on his play mat, bashing a plastic hammer with his chunky little fist and blowing bubbles from his chubby cheeks. Someone has placed a pink feather boa around his shoulders and he giggles as it brushes his face and tickles him.
My ten pound, ten ouncer, now a very sturdy one-year-old, is content wherever he goes and never fails to bring a smile to people’s faces.
His sister, due in a couple of months, is currently on track for being as big a baby as Mattie. But she’ll be raised with love and a positive outlook. And with Luke’s looks she can only be a stunner. I would say that our family will then be complete but I somehow doubt it. I like having babies and I enjoy growing to circus-like proportions. Luke likes it too and he’d be more than happy to have six. We’ll see.
Annie is up now and tapping a spoon on his glass, calling for hush. ‘May I have your attention please? A toast to the happy couple, Gordon and Lubov!’
‘Gordon and Lubov.’ We echo.
Then he adds, with a hint of irony, as he looks around the strange assortment of guests, ‘And to ‘The Gossamer Glove’ where all you need to be is yourself.’
IF YOU ENJOYED ‘STILETTOS & STUBBLE’
TURN THE PAGE
TO READ THE FIRST CHAPTER
OF AMANDA EGAN’S
CHICKLIT ROMANCE NOVEL
‘COMPLETING THE PUZZLE’
COMPLETING THE PUZZLE
Chapter One
‘Mum, Gramps has been at the cooking sherry again! He’s asleep on the bathroom floor and I really need a dump.’
And so my Monday morning began. As if the 6.30 alarm hadn’t been a rude enough awakening, I had yet another Crawford family drama to deal with.
Of course darling hubbie Hugh was safely ensconced in the en-suite, shaving and whistling along to ‘La Traviata’ - oblivious as usual. But even if he’d been aware of the situation, he wouldn’t have got involved. He’d made that more than clear when I’d moved my old dad in six months ago.
‘On your head be it, Fee,’ he’d mumbled as he rooted around his mouth with a toothpick - an obsessive habit, but it came with the territory of being a dentist’s wife. ‘Your life will never be your own and don’t look to me to help out - I’m having none of it.’
Not big on teamwork or loving support, my Hugh. And as for my boys! Will and Toby, at nineteen, saw Gramps as a constant source of drunken entertainment and good for a few free rounds down at our local. I’d told them time and again not to encourage him, but they just thought he was ‘cool’.
Which of course, he was. He was my dad and I thought the world of him. And he wasn’t really a drunk, he just occasionally forgot he was in his eighties and couldn’t knock them back quite the way he used to. And I knew he missed Mum so badly, the odd drink just took the edge off his misery.
As I threw my silk dressing gown on and headed to the bathroom, I silently cursed my mother. ‘Why did you have to go and leave us, Mum? See what my life’s turned into?’ Selfish I know, but sometimes I liked to have a little internal rant. No point voicing it though because nobody ever really listened to me. Actually that wasn’t strictly true as Toby, my sensitive twin, would regularly sit me down, pour me a glass of wine and say, ‘Come on Ma, chill and spill!’ I loved my chats with Tobes and it never ceased to amaze me that twin boys could have such different personalities. I’d often find I was just getting to the heart of what was actually bothering me and Tobes would be looking at me sympathetically, when his brother would appear, pulling a creased T-shirt over his head, scratching, sniffing and demanding the keys to their shared car with, ‘C’mon Tobes. Got a fitty to meet and I don’t want to keep her waiting. Alright Mum?’ That would usually be accompanied by a clumsy hair ruffle and a stolen slurp of my wine. He loved me in his own unique way.
The sight that greeted me on arrival at the downstairs bathroom could have broken a lesser woman, but my nursing training kicked in and I put my sensible hat on. Dad was curled up on my towelling robe, sleeping like a baby and Will was hopping around on one foot in desperate need of relief and ablution.
‘Come on Mum! That kebab and the five pints I had last night really need to make an exit soon! Do something. Wake him up!’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, Will. You could have made some sort of attempt at waking him up yourself. Are you totally bloody useless?’
‘Hey, Dude! When the bowels are calling, I can’t think straight.’ He continued jumping up and down in his boxers.
‘Do NOT call me ‘Dude’. I’m your mother, not some ‘half-mast-trouser-wearer’ you hang out with. Now give me a hand to lift Gramps through to his room. Come on Dad, wakey-wakey.’
At this point, Hugh passed the scene of the debacle that had become my life.
<
br /> ‘Morning, ma famille! Coffee on is it, Fee?’
Before I had the chance to come back with a barbed response, Will piped up with ‘If we don’t move him soon Mum, I swear I’m going to crap myself.’
Ah, Mondays! Don’t you just love them?
*****
Work wasn’t much better. Everyone thought being a part-time nurse in a private secondary school must be a doddle but trust me, it wasn’t. My day could range from broken limbs acquired in over-exuberant rugby games to splinters in bums or young girls confiding they’d either begun or, worse still, missed a period.
