Fat Chance (32 page)

I’ve beaten Benny by a pound. I’ve lost the most weight out of everyone in the competition.

The crowd erupts. The noise is deafening. Ali has gone stark raving mad and has pulled off his t shirt to wave it around his head.

I thrust a fist into the air and cheer.

Waves of relief, triumph, and vindication wash through me.

Suddenly Zoe is by my side, tears in her eyes.

I lean over and give her the biggest hug I possibly can. I squeeze her so tight I can feel her heart pounding away at the same speed as mine.

This is truly a glorious moment. One I will not forget as long as I live.

Eventually, Elise comes over and breaks us up. ‘Okay, guys. Sorry to split you up, but this thing isn’t over yet. Zoe needs to be weighed.’

I look into my wife’s eyes, hug her tightly one more time, and step off the scales.

ZOE’S WEIGHT LOSS DIARY

Monday, September 15th

9 stone, 8 pounds (4 stone, 13 pounds lost)

A
s Greg throws his arms into the air with triumph I feel a deep and overwhelming sense of pride.

Whatever happens to me, my husband will walk away from here today knowing that he lost the most weight, beating everyone else. I couldn’t be happier for him.

With my vision blurring, I hurry to his side to share in his moment of glory.

The pure, happy smile he greets me with sends a huge rush of emotion through me and I can’t help but cry. I’m just so proud
of him
.

Greg wraps me in his arms and for a split second the crowd, the competition and the fifty thousand pounds are completely
forgotten
. This is a moment for us, and nobody else.

Sadly, the moment doesn’t last that long as Elise comes between us, telling me it’s my turn to get on the scales.

I kiss Greg one more time and step up onto the cool metal platform. My heart is hammering so hard I feel it may burst out of my chest.

Here we go, then.

Last time pays for all.

I cross my fingers and stare out at the maddening crowd. I seek out Mum and Dad, finding them in the front row, off to the left. Their excited smiles actually calm my nerves a bit. It’s funny how just the sight of your loved ones can centre you.

The numbers on the scoreboard above me tumble. I can see most of the people in the crowd leaning forward as the numbers start to come to a rest.

And there suddenly, for all the world to see, is the net result of all the diets, all the exercise, and all the effort I’ve put in over the last six months.

Zoe Milton’s weight is nine stone and eight pounds. That’s four stone and thirteen pounds of fat shifted from my body in the most exhausting—and rewarding—half a year I’ve ever experienced.

What an amazing thing!

But.

Frankie has lost more weight, and we were of a similar size when we started this thing.

I crane my neck up as the scoreboard calculates the combined weight loss percentage that Greg and I have achieved.

There is now nobody in the crowd who isn’t leaning forward expectantly. Mum and Dad are holding hands and staring up at the scoreboard. I can see Elise’s fingers crossed and an anxious look on her face. Will is biting his knuckles. Even Adam Edgemont has his hands clasped together.

The only person who isn’t staring intently at the scoreboard above our heads is Greg.

He is looking at me.

A half-smile plays across his lips and I can see his eyes have gone a bit glassy. It’s such an open, honest look of love that it makes me forget about the scoreboard too, if only for a second. H
e m
ouths ‘I love you’ and smiles. I blow him a kiss. As the
numbers
on the
scoreboard
fall into place, and as everyone in the room gasps in
surprise, my husband steps up onto the scales with me, and kisses me in such a way that I suddenly feel even lighter than nine ston
e ei
ght.

We will spend a great deal of time in the near future recounting what happened on this day to friends and family, and every time we do it this will be the moment that we spend the most time talking about.

And no matter how many people want to hear the story, neither of us will ever get tired of telling it.

A vast sigh ripples through the crowd and I break away from Greg’s soft, warm lips to look up at the scoreboard.

31%.

We’ve lost thirty-one percent of our body weight between us. And lost Fat Chance by a single percentage point.

Frankie and Benny start to jump around the stage, whooping like lunatics and punching their fists in the air. The crowd join them in their celebrations at a decibel level that won’t do anyone’s eardrums many favours.

Elise looks directly at me with her mouth downturned and her brow furrowed.

‘Don’t worry about it,’ I mouth at her. Before she can reply, Will has grabbed her arm and is leading her over to what will no doubt be a joyous interview with the two winners of the
competition
.

‘Fuck it,’ Greg says, as his shoulder slump.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ I tell him.

I think I actually believe my own words for once.

Of course, I do still feel a small lump of disappointment in my stomach. That money would have come in enormously handy. Right now, though, it’s such a relief that the whole silly circus is coming to an end. I’m finding it hard to feel really disappointed, especially when we’ve lost by the smallest possible margin.

If nothing else, this is the last day I’ll have to wear a bright red t-shirt proclaiming that I am fat but fabulous. An occasion to be celebrated in itself.

Most of the crowd have now surged down onto the stage area and are swarming round the victorious couple. In the centre of the scrum Elise and Will are trying their best to conduct an interview with Frankie and Benny, who look both giddy and overwhelmed.

The other five couples all have their own smaller crowds of friends and family surrounding them. There’s a lot of back slapping, hugging, and crying going on. From the look of Lea and Pete’s friends there might well be some theft of exercise equipment going on as well, but I turn a blind eye to it as I’m far too busy hugging and kissing my own well-wishers.

Mum and Dad are full of congratulations, of course, though Dad does keep looking at his watch every thirty seconds. These kinds of public events have always made him feel uncomfortable. I’m just delighted they both turned up at all. Along with my parents, the girls from the office are here . . . as are Greg’s mates from the rugby club. Most of them are already drunk, which is to be expected, really.

Before long we are joined by my best friend Elise, the person responsible for bringing us all here in the first place. She now has a beaming smile on her face as she muscles her way through to Greg and me.

‘Zoe! Greg! Huge commiserations on coming so close to winning! How are you both feeling?’ she says and thrusts the
microphone
into our faces.

‘Exhausted,’ Greg says.

‘Light-headed,’ I add.

‘I bet! You were just one percent away from taking the fifty thousand pounds. Are you disappointed?’

‘Our mortgage advisor certainly will be,’ Greg says, while fending off a few hard punches to the arm from Ali.

‘Do you think you could have done anything differently?’ Elise asks me.

‘Well, I did eat half a Jaffa cake three weeks ago,’ I tell her. ‘That might have been a mistake.’

This makes her laugh. ‘But you’re not too disheartened, are you?’

‘Elise, I’m the skinniest I’ve been for nearly twenty years. I’d have
paid
fifty thousand pounds for that.’

‘Good point! And what are you planning on doing now?’

‘Well, I thought I might take Zoe home,’ Greg starts to say, a smile playing around his lips. He’s also gone very wide-eyed. I know what’s coming and can already feel the flush of embarrassment working its way across my cheeks, ‘and give her a good hard shagging,’ he finishes, patting Elise on the shoulder.

Greg’s rugby club mates all roar with approval at this—which is just as well, as I’m sure the comment was intended for their benefit.

Elise’s eyes bulge out of their sockets, not for the first time during an interview with my husband and me.

I’m sure she’s absolutely
delighted
that she never has to speak to us live on air again after today. The radio station won’t be able to afford to pay the fines for much longer.

She wraps up the interview in a rather strangled voice, and throws the attention back over to Will, who’s now with Valerie and George.

Once the microphone is off, Elise glowers at the both of us. ‘You know what? Sometimes I hate the pair of you!’

Greg gives her a big sweaty hug that makes her squeal. ‘Aww, we know you’re just saying that, Elise. You love us, really!’

‘Get off, you smelly sod!’ she cries, whacking him with her free hand.

I feel it’s time to step in at this point.

I wrap both arms around her in a grateful embrace and kiss her cheek. ‘Thank you for putting us forward for this, Elise,’ I say to her rather shocked face. ‘You’ve changed our lives.’

Her eyes fill with tears. ‘It . . . it was my pleasure, sweetie. Thank you for doing it.’

‘Coffee tomorrow?’ I ask. This has been a very strange time in our friendship, and I’m eager to get it back to normal as soon as possible.

‘Sure, that’d be great,’ Elise replies, wiping away a tear.

She smiles, turns on a high heel, and races off after Adam
Edgemont
, no doubt in order to get his opinion on how the competition ended.

If it doesn’t involve at least three plugs for Fitness4All I’ll be amazed.

Over the course of the next half an hour we manage to speak briefly to all the other couples involved in Fat Chance. While we haven’t made firm friends with any of them, these are the people we’ve been on a long journey with, so it only seems appropriate to mark its end with them before leaving.

Frankie and Benny are somewhat insufferable about their victory, but I let it slide. I can see Greg’s eyes rolling a few times as well, but he also manages to keep the conversation cordial. Val and George just seem relieved the competition is over, Angela and Dominica look equally happy to see the back of it, and Lea and Pete can’t wait to get out of the door with the electronic scoreboard and radio desk they’ve already loaded into their mate’s van.

It’s Shane and Theresa who take us by surprise.

‘Thank you so much,’ Shane tells Greg.

‘What for?’

‘The fun run,’ Theresa says. ‘What you did meant a lot.’

‘I’ve never been cheered before,’ Shane adds in such a small but proud voice. I have to blink away yet more tears.

‘My pleasure, mate,’ Greg replies in a voice cracking with
emotion
.

It’s the small victories that count the most. They tend to add up to big ones if you give them half a chance.

During the time we spend with our fellow competitors, we’re also signing autographs for members of the crowd who have stuck around after the show has ended.

This is a bizarre experience, as I’m only used to signing my name on legal documents. To scrawl your name across a piece of paper for no other reason than that someone has asked you to feels extremely strange.

And yes, I even end up signing Veronica’s bloody tits. It was either that, I imagine, or have her pursue me to the ends of the Earth. I don’t particularly want to be strolling around Sydney one day and see her running towards me from the Opera House, swinging her chest around and screaming my name.

Greg also signs her boobs. He seems a lot more happy to do it than I am.

‘Thank you, thank you, thank you!’ Veronica exclaims when we’re done, and claps her hands together.

A sudden thought crosses my mind. ‘Veronica?’

‘Yes, Zoe?’

‘Why me?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘There are twelve of us in this competition. Why did you want my autograph so much?’

She chews her lip nervously for a moment. ‘Because you remind me of myself.’ She pauses and looks away from me. ‘Only . . . only better.’

My jaw drops.

What kind of thing is this to hear from another person? What am I supposed to do with it, exactly?

In lieu of a more poetic, erudite response I smile at her and ask, ‘Can I wear your top hat for a bit? I really like it.’

Veronica’s eyes light up and she laughs. The top hat is plucked from her head and plonked onto mine. The brim nearly drops down over my eyes and the plastic geranium waggles merrily as I adjust it.

‘It suits you,’ Greg lies, grinning.

Veronica stands looking at me for a second with a thoughtful expression on her face. ‘You know, I think it might look better on me than it does on you,’ she eventually says in a grave voice.

‘I couldn’t agree more,’ I reply and give her back the hat.

By about half past four I’m starting to get hungry and pretty damn tired. It’s time to leave. The crowd is thinning out now that the excitement is over. There will be other competitions to cheer—I’m sure Fat Chance will be back next year given the profit
margins
—but for now the fun is over, and everyone can go home to return to their normal lives.

This includes Zoe and Gregory Milton, who will quite happily drop back into the warm bosom of obscurity, thank you very much.

We say a last goodbye to friends and family, and wend our way back out of the gym and over to the car. It’s hard to believe only three hours have passed since we got here. It feels like a month.

On the way home we stop at Dominos—because we figure fuck it, we’ve
earned
it.