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Authors: Amanda Egan

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BOOK: Stilettos & Stubble
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His message ended
with a giant hiccup and a nasal snort, followed by what sounded like him falling
over.

 

Oh, good
grief!  What on earth was he thinking?  He had a perfectly lovely looking girl
next door in the shape of Diana but was too blind to see what was already on a
plate for him.  Yes, I liked him and he liked me but surely he could see that
anything more would smack of desperation.

 

I tipped a tin of
cat meat into the bowl for Bogey and stirred powdered chocolate into my mug.

 

‘What is it with
men, Bogey?  Why do I seem to attract the oddballs?’

 

My oblivious cat
totally ignored my plea and continued to snuffle noisily in his bowl.  His
belly was far more important than my broken heart or unanswerable questions.

 

With a sigh that
came deep from my soul, I picked up my mug and headed to the sitting room.  I
couldn’t remember a time I’d ever felt more lonely.

 

And yet when I
heard urgent banging on my front door, all I really wanted was to be left alone.

 

 

 

Chapter
Eighteen

 

 

Peering through
the spy hole on my door and fully expecting to see an alcohol-fuelled Tom, I
was surprised to see Betty La Muff.  He was devoid of make up, dressed in jeans
and a T-shirt and clutching a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers.

 

Just what I
needed!  Not!

 

I leaned with my
back against the door and felt my shoulders slump.  How could I get rid of him
without hurting his feelings?  The last thing I needed was to be ‘home alone’
with Betty and his wandering hands and then have to face him again at the club
after I’d rejected him.

 

‘Hi, Percy.  It’s
only me.  Dave.  Betty.  But Dave right now.  Thought we could have a little
drinkie together.  Open up.’

 

I turned back to
the door and found my voice.  ‘Oh, hi erm … Dave.  It’s not really a good time
right now.  Bit tired.  Maybe another time?’

 

I was met with
silence and then, ‘Oh.  OK then.  Don’t suppose I could have a quick slash before
I go, could I?  Won’t make it home with
this
bladder on me.’

 

Oh charming! 
And now I was left with no choice but to let him in.

 

Reluctantly I
unlocked the door and stood back to allow him through.  ‘The loo’s just on the
left there.’  I gestured to the door and waited in the hallway for his return. 
The night was rapidly going from bad to worse.  The one man I
really
liked
had gone cold on me and two men who I didn’t fancy had decided that I was the
woman for them.

 

‘Percy’s Luck’
should be linked to ‘Sod’s Law’ in the dictionary.

 

Dave came out of
the bathroom with a cheeky grin on his face.  Picking up the flowers he’d left
on the hall table he handed them to me and said, ‘Just a quick drink, Perce. 
It would be rude to say no.’

 

Refusing him face
to face wasn’t quite so easy and I found myself giving in.  The night couldn’t possibly
get any worse and the thought of going to bed with a head full of revolving thoughts
wasn’t exactly inviting.

 

‘Oh, OK, Dave. 
You win.  But just one.  And no funny business.  I’m not in the mood.’

 

‘Woo hoo!  I knew
you wouldn’t be able to resist me.  Nice jammies by the way.  I can see your
nipples through them. 
Very
nice indeed!’

 

I gave him a look
which I hoped was equivalent to a knuckle rap and led him through to the
kitchen.  It felt safer than the sitting room - no sofas or fluffy rugs to give
him the wrong impression.

 

Bogey had
finished his food and was having a quick wash.  He took one look at Dave, belched
and left the room.

 

‘Nice place
you’ve got here, Percy.  Must get lonely by yourself?’

 

I poured the wine
he’d brought and put the rest in the fridge.  ‘Well my dad’s staying with me at
the moment.  In fact he should be in any time soon.’

 

There, that
should give him the hint he needed.  Drink up and get out.

 

Dave smiled.  ‘No
Perce, I think he’ll be a while.  He was at The Glove again tonight and headed
out with a couple of the gals.  We’ve got the place to ourselves.’

 

My father seemed
to be spending more and more time at the club and the thought was just ever so
slightly worrying.  Why did he like hanging around with the queens so much?  Was
he having some sort of mid-life crisis?

 

Dave did a rather
unnerving wiggle of his eyebrows, which would have served him well in any
‘Carry On’ film.  I imagined his poor, childless wife at home while he was out
acting like a single bloke on the pull and, after the disastrous evening I’d
had, I suddenly saw red.  I’d just about had it with sodding men and Dave was
about to get the brunt of it.

 

‘For fuck’s sake,
Dave.  Just grow up, will you?  I
am
not, nor will I
ever
be
interested in you.  Just get that through your bloody thick skull will you?’

 

He had the good
grace to look just a tad sheepish and for a fleeting moment I felt sorry for
him.  He was one messed up cookie and, for all his cheek and banter, I doubted
if he was truly happy.

 

He downed his
drink in one and I went to the fridge to get the bottle and top his glass up. 
I was instantly feeling a bit guilty about my sudden outburst.  It wasn’t his
fault that I’d had a shit night so why should I be punishing him?

 

‘Sorry.’  I said
simply.  ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.  Forgive me?’

 

He looked at me
and nodded, a hint of sadness touching his eyes.  ‘No,
I’m
sorry.  I
know I can be a pain in the arse but … well, I guess I spend my whole life
putting on a front and sometimes I just don’t know when to stop.’

 

‘Why do you feel
you need to do any of it? The dressing up, the flirting with women?  It’s an
odd mix isn’t it?’

 

Dave rubbed at
his eyes and I could still see the faintest touch of mascara.  It amazed me
that none of the plumbers he worked with by day had ever cottoned on to his
alter ego.  I could only imagine the ribbing he’d get if they did.

 

‘I’ve started
having therapy,’ he said barely audibly.  ‘Always thought that sort of stuff
was a bit lame but the wife said she’d leave me if I didn’t.  I
do
love
her, you know Perce.  I’m not really a heartless bastard.’

 

‘Well if you love
her
that
much, why do you go screwing around?  Not nice, Dave.’

 

‘That’s just it. 
I don’t.  I’m all bloody talk.  If you’d agreed to a shag, I’d probably have
shat myself!’  He shook his head and sighed wearily, his eyes closed.  ‘I’m a
fake through and through.  A bloody joke.’

 

The man before me
had instantly changed - gone was the bravado and the cocky front.  He was sad
and confused.

 

‘My childhood was
a bit of a mess.  I guess the therapy’s helped me realise that.  My mum left
when I was six and my dad just went to pieces.  I was more or less brought up
by my three older sisters.  They used to dress me up in frilly clothes and
paint me up to look like a china dolly.’  He laughed.  ‘Christ, you should see
some of the pictures!  Freaky doesn’t even come close.’

 

I sat quietly
listening to his story and putting the pieces together.  The pieces that had
made this man what he was.

 

‘I spent most of
my teen years wondering if I was gay.  Deep down I knew I wasn’t.  I mean, I
didn’t fancy blokes but I still liked women’s clothes and make up.  I was one fucked
up kid!’

 

His story was all
beginning to make sense now and it was really rather grim.  I took his hand,
suddenly feeling that I could trust him with bodily contact and that all he
needed at that point was a friend.

 

He continued with
his outpouring.  ‘When I met Stella I just wanted to settle down and be loved. 
I never lied to her about the dressing up and it was something she could accept
back then.  It wasn’t until we had trouble starting a family that she started
to resent it.  It was almost as if she needed something to pin the blame on.’

 

‘Well, I guess
that’s kind of logical, isn’t it?’  I asked.  ‘She probably figured that
pointing the finger at that facet of your personality would hurt a lot less
than accusing you directly.’

 

‘But that’s just
it.  It’s
not
me who’s got the problem.  It’s her.  Anyone who knows
about my strange habit just
assumes
it’s me.  You dress up like a big
girl’s blouse, you must be shooting blanks.  It’s not true though, Percy.’

 

I’d been one of
the guilty party who’d thought exactly that and I realised then how wrong it
was of me. 

 

‘But if you know
what the problem is, surely you can get help.’  It all seemed so simple to me.

 

‘No.  We’ve had
our NHS quota of IVF treatments and none of them worked.  Unless I can get
enough money together to go private, we’re done for.  I reckon she might leave
me, Perce.  I think the strain of it all will break us.  I couldn’t bear
that.’  His voice cracked and he coughed to shift the emotion.

 

‘Sorry, Percy.  I
didn’t mean to come round here and dump all my woes on you.  It’s just been a
tough few days.  Stella got her period again on Wednesday and my life’s usually
not worth living for about a week afterwards.’

 

‘Oh, Dave, I’m
so
sorry.  I wish there was something I could do to help.’  I rubbed his shoulder
and added, ‘If I win the lottery, I’ll pay for your next lot of treatment. 
OK?’

 

‘Thanks.’  He
smiled bravely.  ‘… and for listening too.  It’s good to get it all off my
chest to someone other than the counsellor.  I get a bit sick of all her ‘do
you think you were abused in childhood?’ questions.’

 

He stood up and
grabbed his jacket.  ‘Better get off and let you get some sleep, eh?’

 

We walked to the
front door and he kissed me goodbye on the cheek.  ‘You know, if it all goes
tits up with Stella, I might have another bash at you!  You’re one hot babe!’

 

Taking this last
remark in the humour in which it was hopefully intended, I bashed him on the
head and pushed him out into the corridor with a laugh … straight into the arms
of a swaying Tom.

 

 

*****

 

 

Was I ever going
to get to bed that night?

 

Tom came
stumbling through the doorway and flopped onto the sofa.  He looked ridiculous
- his hair was sticking up, his shirt hanging out and three Hawaiian leis were
hanging around his neck.

 

‘I been to a
party.’  He slurred.  ‘I may be a bit pished.’

 


Again
,
Tom?’  I looked at him sternly.  ‘You were pissed the last time you came here. 
Remember?  What on earth is going on with you?’

 

He screwed up his
eyes in an effort to focus on me and was clearly having difficulty in keeping
his head still.  He took a deep breath and then tried very had to annunciate, ‘I
love you Perce.’  He gave an embarrassed, wonky grin.  ‘There I’ve said it.’

 

Oh for the
love of God!  What on earth was it with men tonight?  Had they all gone totally
bonkers?  Or was it one giant bet they’d all made with one another to see who
could waste the most of my time?

 

‘Oh shut up,
Tom!  I’m going to make you some strong black coffee. 
 Again!

 

Bashing around
the kitchen in temper, I almost tripped over Bogey who had come back to see
what all the late night traffic was about.

 

‘The world’s gone
mad, Boges!  Any minute now Annie and Tittie will turn up and say it’s their
dream to have a ménage à trois with me.’

 

Bogey looked at
me in disgust and then jumped up on the window sill for his favourite pastime
of people watching.  The simplicity of a cat’s life seemed so enticing.  I
didn’t know how much energy I had left in me for another heavy discussion and
my makeshift bed on the sofa suddenly seemed to be the best place on earth.

 

As I turned to
get the milk from the fridge, I found myself ploughing into Tom’s arms with him
aiming his lips at me in an attempt at a very clumsy, booze-reeking kiss.

 

‘What on earth do
you think you’re doing, Tom?  Put me down immediately.’  I sounded like a very
strict headmistress and thought it would have been enough to dampen any grown
man’s ardour.

 

But not Tom’s! 
He was a man on a mission and I could see the determined glint in his sozzled
eyes.

 

‘Didn’t you hear
me, Perce?  I love you!  It makes sense for us to be together.  We’re both
lonely, we get on well.  It’s perfect!’

 

And so, for the
second time that night, I found myself issuing a bollocking.  ‘Don’t be so
ridiculous, Tom.  We’re
friends
, that’s all.’  I pushed past him and
went back to the mugs.  ‘Not to mention the fact that you’re about half my
size.’

BOOK: Stilettos & Stubble
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