Locked Out of Heaven

by Shirley Benton

  No pressure there, then – especially when I’d publicly said the girls would have themselves sorted by the revisited show and both of them were desperately trying to earn money. Mind you, Eve had been inundated with interview offers since news came out about her dating Jamie from NorthStar, but if she’d agreed to this she was obviously milking the show’s opportunities for all they were worth.

  Luke had mentioned that the new nightclub had their website up and running already, so I looked it up. It was called Club Gaga and was one of those modern, futuristic efforts. The pictures on the website showed a lot of silver and space-age-esque design. It had mood lighting in the booths that lined the walls of the club and when an object such as a glass was placed on the bar, light would surround the glass and a beam would appear, linking it to another nearby object on the bar. I couldn’t imagine how I was in any way suitable for a place like this, but money was money, so I ended up agreeing to launch the place. It wasn’t as if I was in a position to say no, after all.

  On the night of the launch, Eve, Stephanie and I showed up an hour in advance of the launch, as requested, and met with a “too cool for school” girl called Luighsighe. Yes, Luighsighe, not Lucy. I suddenly wished Sammy was here – she’d have had a field day.

  Luighsighe filled us in on what we’d need to do for the night, which basically involved greeting people and chatting. It sounded doable, but I had an awful feeling that everyone would flock to Eve and Stephanie and I’d be left on my own for the night. But as long as they paid me, that was okay.

  “We have really cool dresses for you guys to wear tonight, too. Just wait until you see them!” Luighsighe said.

  Alarm bells went off in my head. For a dress to make it onto my current body, it had to meet a very stringent set of criteria:

  It could be no other colour than black. I wasn’t fussy about the shade of black – ebony, coal, the shade used for the ace of spades in a pack of playing cards – it was all the same to me. Just black.

  If it doesn’t have sleeves, it’s got to leave. (That particular criterion sounded like a line from the Take Me Out dating game show’s equivalent in the fashion world.)

  No round necks. No high necks. And, Mother of God, no halternecks.

  Unless someone had created Spanx for knees, my dress would have to be a long one. Other people put weight on their stomachs, their thighs or their backs. I put mine on my knees – and all those other places, too. I’d rather wear a knee brace than display those meaty chunks to the world. If my thighs and calves got hidden into the bargain, I could only consider that a merciful bonus.

  No plunging back lines. Going braless wasn’t an option, unless they wanted to create the effect of two melon-sized pears trying desperately not to fall off a tree in the midst of a hurricane.

  That was all. I had other sublevel criteria relating to how tight the dress was and certain material I wouldn’t wear, but these were my few non-negotiables. I just hoped the dresses she’d mentioned wouldn’t deviate too much from what I was prepared to wear.

  She returned with a box.

  “So, they’re in here. Prepare to be amazed!”

  She opened the box and lifted out an armful of scraps of material. Red scraps.

  “We’ll glue them together to custom-make your dresses for you.”

  Eve and Stephanie looked at each other and burst out laughing.

  “What do you think, Holly?” Luighsighe asked. “You’re very quiet.”

  “I think I’ve never seen my set of clothing criteria so comprehensively obliterated. For that, I congratulate you. But if you think any of us would wear that, you’re completely out of your tree!”

  “Look, ladies, it’s this simple. We need publicity. We want to be on the front page of all the papers in the morning. If we don’t make this place a success from day one, we’ll be gone in three months. We hired you to do a job and we expect you to do it. You’re getting well paid for it.”

  “Not well enough.” I threw my scraps on the table. “Good luck with your launch, but I won’t be a part of it.”

  “Hang on a second! We had a deal!”

  I walked out. I couldn’t believe this gig had gone wrong when I needed that money so badly. The kids’ faces flashed through my head as I continued to march out of the room into the hall. There was so much they needed . . . was I being selfish? Could I possibly do this and brazen it out? It would only be a few hours and a selection of Internet pictures that would never go away . . . But like everything else, it would be forgotten. If I wasn’t going to look out for the kids, who would?

  But a dress made of meat? Come on.

  “Holly, wait!”

  I turned round slowly.

  “Can we talk about this?”

  “Just because we put ourselves on display in a TV show doesn’t mean we’re out there for the world to ridicule. You should have mentioned this would be part of the deal.”

  “It was a last-minute brainwave, I swear.”

  “And that’s why the material happened to be there, ready and waiting?”

  “We just got it earlier.”

  “From Malaysia, yes. I saw the postmark on the box. And what day did you order it, did you say?”

  She started to mumble a defence, but it went nowhere.

  “Okay,” she eventually said.

  “I want the money doubled and I want it upfront in cash. As in, right now before I put the meat dress on.”

  “I can’t just get—”

  “Then I won’t be here.”

  I could hardly believe how forward I was being, but I was a woman at the end of my rope. Maybe I was more like Susie than I realised.

  Luighsighe threw her eyes up to heaven. “Okay, okay, okay. I’ll sort it.”

  “And I get to wear my bra, no matter what,” I said, pushing home my advantage.

  “O . . . kay.”

  As I walked back in, I couldn’t decide if I was relieved or furious. The money would solve so many issues and should tide me over until the social welfare payments came through. At least then I could reassess whether or not I really had to continue with this horrible way of living. And on the plus side, it wasn’t as if it was real meat.

  And to think I’d considered the past few months of my life surreal. It was all just building up to this moment.

  A few hours later, Club Gaga was heaving with bodies. I’d never felt so self-conscious in my life and there had never been so many people around to witness my discomfort. I was glad I’d insisted on carrying my handbag around in case I lost it, because it felt like a security blanket over my too-exposed skin.

  As I suspected, Eve and Stephanie were more popular than me. In fact, Stephanie’s chest could have been the third party who launched this nightclub and it would probably have done a far better job than I was doing. Nevertheless, I was constantly busy all night talking to people and the night flew by quickly.

  I was talking to a girl around Hayley’s age, when I smelled smoke. Simultaneously, so did everyone else. Fire! Within seconds, there was a stampede to the door.

  “Jesus Christ! Girls, whip off your dresses!” I yanked at the shoulder straps (if you could even call them that) of my dress.

  The girls looked at me blankly.

  “They’re flammable as hell! We glued them together, remember? Take them off!”

  They seemed to realise I was serious as soon as I was in my bra and knickers. They tore at their clothes while I leaned down to grab my handbag. As soon as the three of us were in our smalls, we ran like the clappers.

  It was all very well until we got outside. Suddenly, every pair of eyes was on us.

  “Quick! my car’s over here,” I said.

  I held my handbag against my blubbery stomach and ran as fast as I could. Even amid all the panic of the fire and my concerns for everyone’s safety, I couldn’t help being mortified at the thought of people seeing my jelly butt cheeks flying hither and thither as I ran.

  “I presume someone has rung the emer
gency services by now, but I’ll put another call through just in case,” I said to the girls as soon as we reached the oasis of freedom that was the car.

  “Holly, there’s someone . . .” Eve said just as I finished my call to the emergency services, who’d told me that someone had already called and help was on the way.

  It was too late. Some young idiot had just snapped me on his smartphone. I resisted the urge to get out of the car and wrestle the phone from him in case someone got further footage. Instead, I started the car and pulled out.

  “God Almighty. I can already see the headline: 50 Shades of Grey, in reference to my bra colour,” I said as I drove down the road.

  A fire engine whizzed past us in the opposite direction, its siren blaring.

  “I can’t believe this is happening,” Eve said. “Both the fire and the nakedness.”

  “It looked like everyone got out in plenty of time, thank God. At least the fire brigade is there now. As for the nakedness, at least you both have a model’s body in comparison to my dumpy old woman’s frame,” I said. “Just when I thought I couldn’t embarrass my kids any more . . .”

  “I’m so cold,” Stephanie said.

  I got out and walked in my bare feet to the boot, where I retrieved some old blankets from the back. They smelled of dog and I wasn’t sure why because we didn’t have a dog, but they’d have to do.

  “You guys take these. I have more padding to keep me warm.”

  “Do you think we should get some clothes and go back there, Holly? Obviously the night is over now, but I don’t want to give them any excuse not to pay us, either.”

  I tapped my left boob to make sure my payment was still there after all that running and bouncing. Thankfully, it was wedged under my nipple and unless I lost a few stone in the next half an hour, it wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Is there something wrong with your chest?”

  I explained to the girls how I’d demanded my payment upfront. “Upfront being the operative word!”

  The three of us burst into giggles.

  “Ah, girls, I thought I’d seen it all on the surreal front after that dating show, but this . . . I feel like I’m trapped in Tom Stoppard’s play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. Nothing makes sense any more.”

  We drove to Eve’s house. She sneaked in and came back a few minutes later with tops, jeans and shoes for her and Stephanie, one of her dad’s jumpers, an elasticated skirt and a pair of flip-flops from her mother’s wardrobe for me (her mother had small feet, too), and a very red face.

  “My brother and his friend had to be in the hall when I went in, of course. That friend of his must have a radar for naked women.”

  “Could have been worse – at least it wasn’t your dad.”

  “Stop it! I’m sorry about the flip-flops, Holly. It was those or six-inch heels. Mum’s paranoid about being a short-arse and only uses the flip-flops in the shower at the gym.” She pulled out a pair of socks. “You could put these on in case you pick up athlete’s foot and just shove the material down between your toes.”

  “See?” Stephanie said. “Things can always get more surreal.”

  We returned to the scene of the crime, the girls looking glam again and me looking like an extra from the TV show Glenroe with flip-flops instead of wellies. The fire had been put out, but the stench was incredible. We located Luighsighe, who understandably looked like she’d aged a decade in the short period of time we’d been away.

  “Is there anything we can do?” Eve said when we’d determined that nobody had been hurt and only a limited amount of damage had been done.

  “Yes, can you put a call into the newsroom of the TV station you work for? What’s happened is shit, but we need to take the positives and use what’s happened to get the event covered as much as possible now.”

  Eve whipped out her phone and left a message for the newsroom team. She was making sure she was going to get paid for this, no matter what.

  As we drove away, I couldn’t help feeling melancholic. Was this what everything came down to? Whether or not something was newsworthy? I of all people couldn’t talk, but there was something unsettling about it all and although I was in too deep now to get out, I suddenly wished I could. I thought my life with Terry had been superficial, but was this any better?

  Chapter 37

  31 December 1994

  On the first of December, my birthday, Terry said he had an extra-special surprise for me. He said we’d need to drive somewhere to get it, so off we took and kept going until we arrived at a new luxury five-star hotel in the city centre.

  “Are we staying here for the night? I don’t have any of my overnight stuff with me!”

  “No. I just need to pick up something in here. Come in with me for a look around.”

  In we went. Terry kept pointing out this and that feature in the hotel and asking me what I thought. I didn’t suspect a thing. He was always scoping out interiors whenever we went anywhere to get ideas for the bar.

  We went to reception. When we got to the desk, Terry said we’d come to collect an envelope for Holly Richards. The receptionist smiled at Terry and handed me a bulging A4-sized envelope. Terry led me to a plush velvet couch to the right of the reception desk.

  I tore the envelope open. Inside was a church wedding booklet. My name and Terry’s were on the front. Underneath was: 18 December 1994, 2 p.m., Blackbeg Parish Church.

  I dropped it on my lap and looked at the next piece of paper. Details of a wedding reception, right there: 18 December 1994, 5 p.m. Honeymoon: two weeks in Florida. Outward flight: 19 December 1994.

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “Happy birthday, Holly,” Terry said, grabbing me and hugging me.

  When he let me go, the hotel’s wedding coordinator was right beside us with two champagne flutes.

  “We’re so glad to be a part of your special day . . .” she started.

  “I know you said you wanted a long engagement but, Holly, what are we waiting for? I love you, you love me. Let’s do this! A Christmas wedding . . . what could be nicer?”

  “Having my wishes respected, Terry. That would be nice.”

  “Ah! come on. I thought this would be the best birthday present ever – and we’ll be getting married on my birthday. How cool is that?” Terry’s face fell. “I thought you wanted to get married as much as I do?”

  “I do.”

  “Well, then!”

  “But what about waiting a while? We haven’t even been together a year yet, Terry!”

  He shook his head. “Look, it’s okay. We can cancel it if you’re not ready. I’ll lose the deposits, but I’ll live with it. This clearly isn’t what you want.”

  I didn’t disagree. We drove home in silence. When we pulled up outside Susie and Willie’s, Susie ran down the driveway straight away as was her wont, Diary.

  “Well?” she said when we got out of the car. “Any news?”

  “You were in on this?” I said to Mum.

  I looked at Terry. He just shrugged.

  “Oh, I just helped Terry to sort out some of the finer details. Isn’t this the best birthday present ever?”

  “We’re actually going to leave the wedding a while, Susie,” Terry said. “I made a mistake. I don’t want to force Holly into anything.”

  Susie frowned. “But you’ll lose a fortune! I don’t understand, Holly. If you’re engaged to the man and want to marry him, why not now? After all the trouble he went to to make such a romantic gesture on your birthday, you’re saying no?”

  “Susie, please don’t be mad with Holly,” Terry said. “This is completely my fault. I was presumptuous. I just got carried away trying to do something extra romantic. This is the first birthday present I’ve ever given Holly and I wanted it to be something she’d never forget, but I got it wrong. I think I should go now.”

  I felt like the world’s biggest bitch as Terry got into his car and drove home. When we got inside, Susie let me have it. I tried
not to listen to her rantings and went off to bed, but Terry’s disappointed face haunted me all night.

  I spent the night questioning myself, Diary. I do love Terry, don’t I? Yes, I do? I think . . . Okay, so there was something there with Damo, but I’d never acted on it. That meant something, surely. I’d chosen Terry. And if I wanted to marry Terry one day, why not now? Was I being stubborn because he hadn’t done things my way? But he hadn’t planned this wedding out of badness or a desire to control things, surely. He’d planned it because he loved me and was trying to make me happy. Was that so bad? Was I a really horrible person to have said no?

  After a sleepless night, I rang Terry in the morning and apologised for being such an ungrateful bitch. To cut a long story short, Diary, I agreed to the wedding. I couldn’t justify Terry losing all that money when he’d only been trying to do something nice for me and I was going to marry him eventually anyway.

  But now, I am starting to panic.

  It was just like when I got engaged and I didn’t feel I was excited enough. Surely I should have been hopping off the ceiling with happiness about getting married? I couldn’t seem to find the joy in anything. I bought a dress and it was beautiful, but it was just a dress. And I’d never have chosen the hotel as my preferred reception place. I’d have liked a hotel in the Wicklow countryside, something away from the hustle and bustle of the city with picturesque grounds for the wedding photos. What had made Terry think I’d like this hotel? I seemed to be finding fault in everything.

  I couldn’t admit to myself why.

  Chapter 38

  “Since when do you have time to read with all those children to mind?” Susie said when I came into the sitting room with a magazine and today’s newspaper.

  “This is the latest edition of the magazine with my weight loss update and pics. The photo shoot and interview I did with the Sunday paper is also out today.”

  I opened the magazine nervously, having resisted the temptation to peek at its contents on the way up from the shop.