Stilettos & Stubble (17 page)

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.

*****

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.

As I passed my
bag on the hall table my mobile signalled a voice message.  I took it through
to the kitchen with me and listened as I waited for the kettle to boil.

I was met with a
rather drunken slur and much umming and aahing.

‘Hi Percy. 
It’s me … Tom.  I noticed you’d try to call me yesterday.  Sorry I missed you. 
Hey …listen … I’ve been thinking …we’re both single .. erm … we like one
another.  Don’t we?  Why don’t we … well, you know?  Go on a date.  What d’ya
say?  Could be fun!  Anyway, have a think about it.  I might pop round to see
if you’re home yet.  See ya.’