‘Look, don’t worry.’ He reached hand across the table to grab hers. ‘It doesn’t matter if you look a bit bigger than usual.’
‘It doesn’t?’ she asked, looking into his chocolate-brown eyes and holding his hand in return. ‘I mean, you don’t mind if I look a bit different from … you know. What I used to? Because you said … you know, the weight …’ Perhaps Robert had been right. If Dave wanted to marry her, it was because of who she was, not what she looked like. Had she been wrong about him all along?
‘No, the important thing is you’re back on track.’
‘Back on track?’ She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in protest.
‘Yes. You’re working out again; you’ll be back to normal soon. We can put it all behind us. Thank God.’ He wiped the back of his hand dramatically across his brow in mock relief.
‘Right.’ He was speaking as if she’d been ill or had an affair, not put on a dress-size.
He smiled benignly, pleased with himself. ‘I’ll have my Jessica back,’ he said. ‘We can be like we used to be, maybe?’ It seemed like a question rather than a statement.
She looked at the ring. Suddenly it looked like glass.
‘But what if you didn’t? Does it really matter if I don’t have the perfect body? Are you really saying that if I don’t lose the weight it’s a deal-breaker?’ She remembered that she wasn’t sure if they were actually together and that there was a deal to break. ‘I mean, that you won’t find me attractive any more unless I shed the pounds?’
‘None of that matters,’ he said, reaching out his hand.
‘It doesn’t?’ She felt a surge of hope. Was this the point at which Dave would apologise for being cruel about her weight gain? Admit that he was a bit obsessed? Declare his unconditional love for her over a flapjack?
‘Yeah, because you’re going to lose the weight. So what does it matter what I’d feel if you didn’t?’ He smiled again, completely unaware that he had his size-ten stuffed firmly in his mouth, metaphorically speaking. And that if he wasn’t careful, Jessica’s very literal size-six was going to join it.
Fit at 30
I’ve been thinking a lot about filters, Photoshop and how, these days, we can alter an image until it’s almost unrecognisable. I post a lot of selfies and most of the time I try to avoid the temptation to edit out a spot or slim down my thighs – I’m all about keeping it real.
Some of you may have seen some rather cruel pictures of me from my recent workout, where I admit I wasn’t looking my best.
But in a way they’ve done me a favour. Seeing my bottom in all its glory helped me to realise that I’ve still got some way to go when it comes to being as toned as I’d like.
When it comes to eating well and exercising, we can sometimes hit a plateau. And that’s why I’ve decided to step it up. Doing the same old moves, eating the same foods – however healthy – can sometimes mean we fall into a bit of a rut.
This is one of the reasons I was at the ‘Go Figure!’ gym in the first place. Wanting to rethink my routine and get back to my best.
So maybe I’m a bit angry at some of the comments, but I’ll just pound it out on the treadmill. Stand by for a better bottom shot in the future!
#Determined #Toningup
COMMENTS
S
Good for you!
TS
Was that really you then? I’d assumed it was a hoax?
JK
Real girls have bottoms. You’re an inspiration! So brave.
HKL
Ban #cellulite with our @miraclesmoother. Visit www.lumpylegs.com
Chapter Thirty-Five
After a few rings, Tamzin answered. In the background, Jessica could hear the hum of a road and the buzz of people talking.
‘Hi, Tamzin.’
‘Oh, hi.’
‘So, great news!’ Jessica said. ‘I’ve been in touch with my contact at Proximity magazine and they’d like to do a little piece with you. You know, a day-in-the-life sort of interview with hopefully a reference to the Little Accidents range?’
‘Yeah, brilliant, go on then. Oh, and fanks.’
‘That’s OK.’
Jessica put down the phone and ticked the item from her ‘to do’ list. The email, arriving in her inbox just five minutes ago, had been a great boost for a Monday morning. Just the right target market for Little Accidents and a readership with plenty of Diamante fans.
If Tamzin seemed a little underwhelmed, it was probably just because she was used to doing magazine interviews. Jessica’s clients to date had had barely any followers online, so she’d had to work hard to get them any mention in the media. It was no surprise that things were different with someone who was used to a bit more attention.
She checked her messages. Some spam to delete after she’d neglected her inbox over the weekend. One possible lead from a freelancer wanting to interview Hugo for the arts section of a broadsheet. A line-up with all the front runners in the art competition. Front runners? Jessica thought of the picture again; imagined it spread out across her parents’ breakfast table. Brilliant news for Hugo; not so good for her dignity.
‘That’s great,’ she wrote back at last. ‘We’ll get something set up.’
She should really have been the one setting Hugo up for interviews, rather than being approached out of the blue. Had she been holding back because of the picture? If it had been of anything else, she’d have been shouting from the rooftops.
She’d barely checked her emails yesterday – usually Sundays were spent tidying up her inbox, but having been out with Dave all day on Saturday she’d wanted to spend some time with Anna. After she’d blogged and attempted a yoga DVD, they’d watched a movie together. It had been nice to stop for a moment.
But it wasn’t taking an afternoon off that had put her off her game. It was the situation with Dave, she realised. She found it hard to think about anything else when she was sitting at her desk; and it was showing in her work.
Plus, starting back at the gym had been more punishing than she’d expected – come three o’clock in the afternoon she could barely keep her eyes open, and walking up the stairs, she could feel the muscles stretching on the back of her legs like overworked elastic in a too-tight pair of knickers.
‘Just stepping outside!’ she trilled suddenly to the quiet office, picked up her mobile and made her way to the car park. Inside the safety of her car, she dialled the number of one of the few people she could actually rely on.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Stu.’
‘Hello, stranger!’ her brother’s voice on the phone was warm and welcoming and, as with every other time she rang him, she inwardly chastised herself for not calling more often.
‘Yeah, sorry I haven’t been in touch. Can you talk?’
‘Yeah, don’t worry. It’s good to have an excuse to avoid work. Although I probably shouldn’t be talking to you full-stop.’
‘What? Why?’
‘Well, I was a bit put out that you didn’t mention your engagement to me. Mum told me!’
‘Oh! Sorry about that …’
‘It’s OK. Saved me sending Erica out to buy you a card.’
‘Hey! It’s not too late!’ But she was smiling. ‘Actually, Stu, it’s kind of about the engagement that I’m calling you.’
‘Yeah? Please tell me you’re not going to ask me to be a bridesmaid?’
‘Ha! It’s just that, well, I’m not sure whether I’m actually engaged or not!’ She let out a slight laugh as if this was a relatively normal, albeit confusing, situation to be in.
‘What?’ his tone, as it might well have been, was incredulous. ‘Isn’t the fact that your boyfriend proposed and you’re sporting a ring that even Mum was impressed by, well, a clue?’
She explained the situation. That D
ave had walked out because he thought she was jeopardising his gym routine by eating biscuits. Stu snorted at that, but said nothing. Then she told him about the engagement. About how it had happened as a result of her asking Dave to stand in as her boyfriend for a bit but how now he seemed serious – as long as she lost the weight that had stood in their way in the first place.
When she finished, he was silent for a moment.
‘Stu?’
‘Yeah, yeah. Still here.’
‘And?’
‘And what do I think?’ he said, sounding bemused.
‘No, and will you help?’ she replied. ‘Please?’
‘How on earth can I do that?’
She was ready for this particular question. ‘I just thought, you know, prospective brother-in-law. You could take him out for a drink or something, suss him out a bit.’
‘Seriously?’
‘Yeah, why not?’
‘I’m meant to ask the idiot who thinks it’s OK to walk out one morning on my sister and my niece whether he’s serious about marrying you? I should be punching him in the mouth, surely? And he called you fat? And you’re OK with that?’
She hadn’t really thought about it that way. ‘Well, not OK, as such. But I guess I have let myself go a bit.’
‘So what, you’re going to write it into the marriage vows? In sickness and in health, but not if she puts on a few pounds?’
Jessica was silent. It didn’t sound very romantic when you put it like that.
‘You want to marry this guy? I mean, Grahame was bad enough. But at least he could talk about something other than how many weights he can bench press. Turned out to be a bastard in the end, obviously. But before that you two were … well, I used to be jealous of how you two were.’
‘Really?’
‘Of course! Mr Chronically Single vs Mr and Mrs Perfectly Happy. Course I was.’
‘Why didn’t you say? I always assumed … I was quite jealous of you – all young, free and single.’
‘All lonely you mean?’
‘Oh, Stu …’
‘Crying myself to sleep and watching Love Actually on repeat every night the phone back’
‘Aww you poor lickle baby …’
‘Seriously, though, it was a bit of a shit time.’
Why hadn’t she known? ‘But you always looked so happy on Facebook.’
‘Of course! Because everyone’s completely honest online, right?’ He laughed.
‘Good point,’ she said. ‘Sorry.’
‘S’all right. Ages ago now.’
‘I do want to marry Dave, you know?’ she said, getting back to the subject. ‘Or at least, I think I do. It’s just, until I know whether it’s real, it’s impossible to really know how I feel about it.’
‘Well, that makes sense. A bit. What does Anna think?’
What did Anna think? She had no idea. ‘I’ve … I mean, I’ve not really spoken to her much about it.’
Stuart was silent.
‘I should have, shouldn’t I,’ she admitted, feeling a pang of guilt in her chest.
‘Well, I’ve only got a toddler, so not quite in your parenting league, but I think you probably should have.’
‘But you’ll help?’ she prompted.
‘I suppose so. But I can’t promise not to accidentally sneeze into his vodka and lime.’
‘That’s OK. I’ve been tempted to myself recently,’ she grinned.
‘And you’d better be there for me the next time I get engaged and am not sure whether things are real or not …’ There was a smile in his voice again and she felt herself relax.
‘Count me in.’
‘You’re an idiot, you know that, right?’
‘I’m beginning to realise, yep …’ She hung the phone up, smiling. Despite his tendency to drop the odd, painful truth bomb, she was lucky to have Stu as a brother.
Half an hour later she had a text saying he’d rung Dave and they were going to meet in a couple of days. If I end up drinking some sort of health shake at the bar, you’re going to owe me big time! he’d added.
To distract herself from thinking about what Stu might discover, Jessica began to read some of the analytics from her blog. She hadn’t posted a new recipe for a while; it was time to get back on the wagon – for better or for worse.
She scrolled through the recipe options that Candice had flagged up for her, and chose a vegan fry-up with sea-foam garnish. It looked both insubstantial and so healthy that it ought to satisfy both her trainer and her followers, if not her stomach.
Later, having popped to the grocery store en route and stocked up on as many of the ingredients as she could identify, she shoved the lot into the boot of the car and went to pick up Anna.
This time, she was a little bit late, and Anna was leaning against the wall at the front of the school, her face a carefully crafted frown.
‘Are you OK?’
‘Yep.’
‘Sorry I’m late.’
Anna shrugged. ‘It’s all right.’
‘Sure you’re all right?’
‘Yep.’
‘Listen, Anna …’ Jessica lifted her hand from the steering wheel for a minute and touched her daughter’s arm. ‘I wanted to say I’m sorry. I haven’t really asked you how you feel about everything.’
‘What, the Twitter stuff?’
‘What Twitter stuff?’
‘That picture of you at the gym, you know …’ Anna’s cheeks reddened. ‘Someone sent it to me on my phone.’
‘Oh, Anna. I’m sorry,’ she thought again of her bottom straining at the hole in her leggings. ‘I mean, it was an accident, obviously. And I’m pretty embarrassed …’
‘It’s OK. I guess it’s not as if you’re in the Daily News or anything,’ said her daughter, shaking her head. ‘And it’s not like you’re naked or anything.’
‘No,’ agreed Jessica, her mind hovering around the interview she’d just taken part in that was yet to go into print, and the picture of her imagined naked form reclining in Hugo’s competition entry. ‘Neither of those things.’
‘I guess it’s a bit embarrassing.’
‘Yeah.’ They sat in silence for a while, until Jessica remembered she was trying to talk to Anna about Dave, not about her bottom bursting through her leggings. It was hard to concentrate once confronted with a mental image of that magnitude.
‘Actually, darling, it was the thing with Dave I wanted to talk to you about.’
‘What thing?’
‘Well, you know. The wedding. How you feel …’
Anna shrugged. ‘It’s OK.’
‘You like him?’
‘He’s OK.’ She paused. ‘I’m not going to have to call him Dad or anything, am I?’
‘No, not if you don’t want to.’
‘And you’re not going to have a baby, are you?’ Anna screwed her nose up with distaste at the very idea.
‘No, no, I don’t think so.’
There was silence for a mile or so. Then, ‘Do you love him, Mum?’
‘What a funny question!’ Although it wasn’t really. Maybe a little surprising. But quite a reasonable, adult question. ‘Of course!’ she answered brightly, wondering if it was true.
‘OK.’
This seemed to satisfy Anna, so she left it at that.
An hour later, once she’d chopped vegetables, taken a selfie, arranged food on the plates, taken a selfie, set the table, taken a selfie, Jessica called Anna down for dinner.
‘What’s this?’ her daughter said, suspiciously.
‘It’s a vegan fry-up,’ she answered. ‘I’ve got some quiche in the fridge if you’d rather.’
‘No, this looks good, kind of,’ said Anna, sitting down and picking up a fork.
She cleared her plate within a few
minutes.
‘Wow, did you enjoy that?’
‘Yeah,’ her daughter shrugged. ‘It was OK. I just held my breath so I couldn’t taste the leafy bits.’
‘Do you want any pudding? I’ve got some dark chocolate mousse if you want.’
‘Nah. I’ll get some crisps or something.’
‘OK.’
‘Mum?’
‘Yes?’
‘Did you take a picture of the food?’
‘Yes, of course!’ Otherwise nobody would know she’d eaten something so healthy – what would be the point of that?
‘Can you send it to me on my phone … uh, I want to show my friend.’
‘OK.’ She wondered if the friend was Grahame’s wife Tabitha. She couldn’t help but hope so. ‘Let me know if she wants the recipe!’ she said, pushing send.
‘Will do.’ Anna went to leave the room.
‘Hang on a sec,’ Jessica said, and standing up, pulled her daughter in for a quick squeeze.
‘What’s that for?’ Anna eyed her suspiciously.
‘Just proud of you.’
‘What, for sending a photo?’
‘No, just, well, you’re getting so grown up.’
‘Thanks,’ said Anna, smiling bashfully.
Jessica smiled back, but as she watched her daughter climb the stairs she could see Anna’s expression change from smile to worried frown.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Alfresco meeting in the park with @DrRobHaydn #PRLife #sunnydays #lovemyjob @StarPR
‘You don’t mind meeting here?’ Robert asked for the forty-fifth time.
‘No, it’s fine,’ she said. Although in truth she wished she’d worn a warmer jacket to the park. The lake shimmered in the afternoon sunlight, but there was a chill in the air.
Sitting at a picnic table by the water, she laid out her armoury – notebook, laptop, phone, pen – and smiled. ‘So, how’s it going?’
‘I just feel so much more inspired in the open air, you know?’ he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘Especially when it’s sunny.’
‘Yeah,’ she agreed, mostly to move the conversation on. ‘It’s really nice.’ It actually was nice to get out of the artificial light of her office. She breathed deeply. ‘Relaxing.’
Everything is Fine: The funny, feel-good and uplifting page-turner you won't be able to put down! Page 21
