Stilettos & Stubble (4 page)

The bill sorted,
he made a great show of stretching and yawning, while Mia fussed with her
pashmina and handbag saying, ‘Well, perhaps we
should
get off and let
the baby sitter get home.  Don’t rush, you two.  Stay and enjoy your evening.’

As they left the
restaurant, Tom and I burst out laughing.

‘Subtle, eh?’  I
looked at him with raised eyebrows.  ‘Don’t panic, I don’t have designs on
you.  They do this to me all the time.  You’re quite safe.’

‘I’m used to it
too.’  He undid his tie and visibly relaxed.  ‘I’ve got some friends I deliberately
avoid seeing because I got so sick of them setting me up with dodgy dates.’  He
flinched, realising what he’d said.  ‘Not that I meant
you’re
dodgy, of
course.  It’s just that we both know that there’s no …’  He struggled looking
for a word that wouldn’t offend.

‘There’s no
spark
,’
I finished for him.  ‘That’s exactly what I told Mia in the loo when she was
trying to sort out my pathetic hair.  But would she listen?  No, not Mrs
Matchmaker.’

‘Well I have to
say, you’re the first lady I’ve dined with who’s kept her hat on all night so I
think we should at least drink to
that
!’

I made to raise
my glass and heard my mobile signal a text.  The screen flashed up ‘Mia’ and
the message read,

‘I really
think Tom could be the one.  Bet he asks you back to his place!  xxx’

I handed the
mobile to Tom with a smile and a shake of my head.  ‘I think you’d better grab
a couple of double brandies.  After the day I’ve had, I think we should get
pissed.’

*****

It turned into
quite a night.  After our brandies we moved on to a cocktail bar where we began
sampling most drinks on the extensive menu and shared our dating horror
stories.  It almost turned into a bit of a game, with us both trying to outdo
the other.

Neither of us
failed to notice the looks of surprise we got from the other drinkers.  What
was the lady-giant doing with the little guy?  And, more importantly, what
could he
possibly
see in her?  But we didn’t care.  We were having a
hoot and it was refreshing to be out with a guy whilst knowing full well it was
going nowhere.

So at roughly
three o’clock, and as we hit cocktail number seven, he leant across the bar and
slurred at me.  ‘Take the hat off, Percy.  Giz us a look.’

I giggled and
sipped my drink through the straw, avoiding a poke in the eye from the paper
umbrella.  ‘OK.’  I hiccupped.  ‘But if you laugh, I’ll cry.’  I removed my hat
and shook my curls, smiling brightly.

I didn’t know if
a miracle had occurred in the time I’d been wearing the hat or the sweat I’d broken
into had made things settle down a little, or maybe if he was just a bloody
good liar, but he looked at me and smiled.  ‘Ah, that’s not as horrific as you
made out, you dozy cow.  And you’ve got a really pretty face, you know.  I
reckon you need to stop putting yourself down.’

He may well have
continued talking, I have no idea, because I ran to the loo to check myself
out.  The sight that greeted me was incredibly pissed but it looked happy enough
and the curls definitely had less guts to them.  My eyes were sparkly and I
looked alive and vibrant.  A night on the town had done me a power of good,
that much was clear, and I had Tom to thank for it.  I topped up the lippie
again, removing some streaks of eyeliner from under my eyes and ran my fingers
through my new hair.  OK, it was far from perfect but my positive attitude
meant that I was more capable of dealing with it.

I hummed to
myself as I made my way back to Tom.  He was right, I wasn’t a bad looking
woman and the time had come for a change.  I kissed him on the cheek and gave
him a friendly punch on the arm.  ‘Thanks!’ I grinned at him as he frowned and
sipped his lime green cocktail.

‘What was
that
for?’ he asked as I struggled to get myself back on my bar stool.

‘
That
my
friend, was for making me see the light.  Tomorrow is the first day of the rest
of my life and I’m not gonna sit around and wait for things to happen any
longer.’  I stopped myself from spouting any more corny clichés and called the
barman over to mix me a new drink.  ‘Let’s drink to the new me ‘cos tomorrow
she’s making an appearance and she intends to make the world sit up and take
notice.’

We clinked our
glasses together, slopping sickly liquid all over the bar and toasting the ‘new
me’.

Tom grinned and then
winced as he cautiously tested his latest drink.  ‘Well I wish you all the luck
in the world with launching your new life but I’d put it off until the day
after tomorrow if I were you.’

‘Why?’ I
questioned him.  ‘What’s wrong with starting tomorrow?’

‘Because, oh
lovely Percy, I reckon it’s going to be reserved for a couple of humdinger
hangovers.’

Chapter
Four

Oh my!  I’d never
known a hangover like it.

When I finally
woke, at about midday, I could barely lift my pounding head from the pillow but
I knew I needed to make it to the bathroom to get some water and pain killers. 
I turned gingerly onto my side and attempted to shuffle out of bed, every part
of my body aching.

There, miraculously
resting on my bedside cabinet was a huge glass of water, a blister pack of
paracetamol and a note.

‘Cheers for
letting me doss on your sofa, Percy.  Hope you don’t feel as rough as I do. 
Good luck with the transformation.  Be great to catch up again some time.

Tom’

Never had I been
so grateful for such a simple gesture.  I downed a couple of tablets and
glugged at the water, flopping back on my bed.  As I lay there listening to my
thumping head, I realised that my miracle makeover would indeed have to wait another
day.

And as I drifted
in and out of sleep, I kept thinking ‘
Why can’t I find a bloke as nice as
Tom to share my life with?’

*****

My mobile
signalling a text woke me at about four in the afternoon and I was relieved to
find that the agonising headache had all but left me.  My mouth still felt
revolting and my stomach was churning but I felt far better than I deserved to.

The text was from
Daddy.

‘Your
mother is at bridge tonight. Fancy a pub meal?  xx’

The last place on
earth I really needed to be was in a pub but I was surprised to find that I
felt incredibly hungry.  A quick bite with my dad would do me the world of
good.

And
I had yet another favour to ask - hopefully my last.

*****

‘Percy, I just
don’t get it!  I’m sorry darling but I think you’re making a mountain out of a
molehill here.  There’s
nothing
wrong with the way you look, you’re a
beautiful young lady.’

Daddy and I were
finishing off our meal, comfortably chatting about everything and nothing, when
I’d broached the subject of ‘the new me’.  As always, he’d defended me,
complimented me and bolstered my confidence but I didn’t need that this time -
I needed him to come round to my way of thinking.

I frowned and
tried desperately to gather my thoughts in my still dehydrated brain.  I
had
to get through to him.

‘Daddy, you have
to stop seeing me as your daughter and, just for once, step back and see me the
way others do.  There’s no getting away from the fact that I’m no Page Three
pin-up but I need to start making the most of what I’ve got - you know, dressing
to my full potential, wearing stuff that suits me and doesn’t make me look like
a bloody great circus elephant! I’m not talking surgery or anything drastic
like that, just a complete wardrobe overhaul.’

He looked at me and
fiddled with his unlit pipe, desperate to get out into the fresh air for a
puff-up.  ‘You know, I blame your mother for this.  Always putting you down,
never encouraging you.  She’s got a bloody lot to answer for.’

I smiled at him,
feeling a twinge of sadness.  I was so lucky to be blessed with such a fab dad
but was he
truly
happy?  How could he be when he loved my mother with
all his heart and she treated him the way she did?  He deserved to be loved
back, not walked all over and used.

I suddenly felt a
huge wave of guilt - I was just as bad.  Here I was
again
, trying to
cadge yet more money out of him just so that I could try to dig myself out of
the pathetic hole that had become my life.

‘I’m sorry,
Daddy.  Forget I asked.  It’s just me being stupid again - no amount of new
clothes will make a difference.  I guess I was just grasping at straws.’

‘Percy, you know
I’d do anything for you and your mother. 
Anything
.  You’re my world. 
But I don’t want you trying to be something you’re not when you’re perfectly
fine as you are.’

I nodded,
understanding every word, but it didn’t really help my situation.  I’d put a
plan into action and now I wouldn’t be able to go ahead with it.  Back to the
drawing board.

‘But …’ Daddy
continued, ‘… if you really feel that this is what you need to do, I’ll lend
you a grand.  That must be enough to get you started?  I don’t really see the
sense in it because you’re my lovely girl and nothing will change that
but
… I’m happy to do it if it means that much to you.’

It wasn’t
possible to love my father any more than I did but my heart overflowed at that
moment and I threw my arms around his neck and kissed him.

‘Oh thank you,
thank you Daddy.  You really don’t know how much I appreciate it.  I swear I’m
gonna change my life, turn it around.  And I promise I won’t let you down.’

Taking my chin
into his hands, he looked into my eyes.  ‘That’s my whole point, Percy.  You
never
let me down.’

And with my
addled brain and pickled liver on that significant night, I vowed silently to
myself that
this
time, I really
would
do something to make him
proud of me.

*****

OK, so it was
hardly the scene from ‘Pretty Woman’ but Tom and I had a ball. 

He’d rung me a
few days later offering to accompany me on my first shopping trip and telling
me it was good to have a man’s eye to comment on my choices.

‘Trust me, Perce,
I know about these things.  Very in touch with my feminine side, I am!’

Of course, this
sent Mia into paroxysms of delight when I told her - surely that meant a second
date?  The wedding bells were by now chiming loudly in her little head.  No
amount of trying to convince her that Tom and I had just hit it off as friends
would work, so I left her to her fantasies and hit the stores with my personal
shopper.

I was totally
used to the way the snotty size zero shop assistants looked down their perfect
little noses at me but Tom found it a bit of an eye opener.

‘Shit, they’re
bitches, aren’t they?  Did you see that stick of a thing give you the once over
when you asked if they had that black dress in a size eighteen?  She looked
like she had a little bit of sick in her mouth.  I don’t know how you put up
with it, Perce.’

I put up with it
because I’d developed a mighty thick skin.  I knew the shops to
completely
avoid (nothing over a size twelve) and I knew the ones where I needed to gather
all my courage just to get through the door.  I was sick of Marks & Spencer
and BHS - I had to step out of my comfort zone and look further afield.

And it was funny
how facing that challenge seemed so much easier with a friend by my side.  Tom
seemed to enjoy shopping and his comments were honest and to the point.  Had he
been a boyfriend, I may have gone a bit huffy but from him it worked.

‘No Perce, that
top will make you look like a milk maid.  Never a good look on a larger lady. 
Try this cross-over number.  I bet it makes your boobs look fit!’

And he was right
- every single item of clothing he picked out seemed to tone down my size and
accentuate the positives.  It was certainly a talent I’d never known a man to
have.

As we shared a
bottle of merlot at lunch to boost our energy levels for the afternoon ahead, I
looked at him and laughed.  ‘Blimey Tom!  If I didn’t know better, I’d swear
you were gay.  There aren’t many men who can shop till they drop
and
give such excellent fashion advice.’

He’d just
finished checking out the bum of a very cute passing blonde, making it more
than clear that he was straight, and I added, ‘What’s your story?  How come
you’re a pocket-sized Gok?’

He sipped his
wine and replaced the glass on the table, leaning over to me.  ‘Four sisters. 
That’s
my story.  I grew up in a house full of cosmetics, frilly knickers and hair
straighteners.  They’d ask for my opinion before they went on a date and I’d
always be honest.’

‘I just can’t
believe you haven’t got yourself a girlfriend!  Women would kill for a man like
you.  Life’s just not fair is it?’

‘Oh, I try not to
think of it as unfair.  I like to think that it will all become clear when the
right one eventually comes along.  There’s someone for all of us, you know. 
Now knock that drink back and let’s get moving.  We’ve got trousers and tops
galore but I’m still determined to find a dress that you actually like - those
legs are way too good to hide.’

*****

We returned to my
flat at about six, laden down with bags and desperate for the pizza I’d
promised by way of thanks.

Struggling up the
stairs to my doorway, we became aware of the sound of sobbing and my heart sunk
to my boots.  Bloody Dopey Diana, the neighbour from hell.

There she was,
huddled outside her front door, hair extensions askew and mascara streaming
down her orange fake tan.  ‘Oh, Percy!  I’m
so
glad you’re home. 
Stavros has dumped me and I’ve locked myself out.’  The hysterical sobbing
began again and she looked up at me pitifully.

Tom glanced at me
and raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile playing around his eyes and mouth. 
Diana really was a sight and it was hard not to see the funny side.

I juggled my bags
in my hands, trying to get my key in the door at the same time as offering
sympathy.  ‘Oh, Diana.  That’s a shame.  Come on in and we’ll see what we can
do about getting you back in your flat.’

She stood up
shakily and smiled weakly at Tom - a male audience was her favourite and she
was never one to let an opportunity pass her by, even in times of crisis. 
‘Thank you Percy, you’re very kind.  If I could just use your bathroom to
freshen up, then I can ring a friend to bring round my spare key.  I don’t even
have my bloody mobile on me.’  And the tears started again.

Once inside my
hallway, she headed to the bathroom and Tom and I to the kitchen.  I fed Bogey,
who gave Tom the once over and declared him ‘OK’, and then I opened a bottle of
wine.

Tom whispered, ‘Who’s
the Barbie doll and what’s she on?’

I giggled and
told him to shush.  ‘She’s a soppy tart who always ends up with the wrong men -
she makes
our
love lives look successful by comparison, but the trouble
is she goes for all the sleazebags.  Wealthy, Greeks, lounge lizards - you know
the type?  The trouble is, once they’ve bedded her, they dump her.’

Tom shrugged.
‘Well it’s hardly surprising is it?  Is there
anything
real going on
there?  I mean what
hasn’t
been done?  It’s like a walking piece of
plastic!’

‘One of the
bonuses of playing with the rich boys, I guess.  They pay for everything. 
Boobies were courtesy of Alexei and the Botox was down to Thaddeus.’  I handed
him a glass of wine and sat myself down at the breakfast bar, opening some nuts
and emptying them in to a bowl.

Diana reappeared
a few minutes later looking ‘Barbie-box’ fresh and instantly made a beeline for
Tom, extending her perfectly manicured hand to him.  ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t
introduce myself before, it was terribly rude of me.  I’m Diana DeVere and I
don’t usually look this dreadful.’

Tom took her hand
and smiled nervously.  I noticed that size-wise they made the ideal couple -
she was petite and perfect - but far too high-maintenance for the likes of
someone as decent as Tom.  In fact, as she balanced her pert little bottom on
the stool next to him, he looked positively terrified.  Man-eaters were not his
bag, that much was clear.