by Lynsey James
‘Dove’è la toilette?’ the tape asks, and I parrot it back when I’m asked.
‘Not bad,’ another voice behind me says. ‘You thinking of running off to Italy?’
I turn and see Fred standing before me, an amused smile playing on his lips. My time spent leaning on the glass counter and listening to my Basic Italian tape is over now.
‘Not quite,’ I reply with a grin. ‘I’ve always fancied learning a new language, and Italy’s such a beautiful country, so I decided to go for Italian. Not quite sure how I’m doing at the moment, but at least I’m giving it a go, eh?’
‘Well, you sounded pretty good to me, love.’ Fred pats me on the shoulder then looks at his watch. ‘Ooh, you’d better get a move on! Your Carb Counters meeting’s starting soon.’
I look up at the clock and fly into a blind panic. ‘Oh God, you’re right! I’d better get going, I’ll see you tomorrow!’
*
I race into the Carb Counters meeting with just moments to spare. I’m still in my baking clothes and my hair’s covered in flour; Marjorie won’t be impressed, but I’ll deal with that when I have to.
‘Cutting it fine again, Cleo,’ Linda says with a fake-horrified grimace. ‘You’ll be at the top of Her Ladyship’s hit list.’
I smile as I hand over my card and money. ‘I can handle her,’ I say with a wink. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine.’
Linda cocks her head to one side and looks at me with a curious expression. I can feel my cheeks instantly flushing and divert my gaze to the foldout table between us.
‘What is it?’ I ask.
‘You look different. Happier, I’d say; it’s good to see. A couple of weeks ago, it was like you were missing something, but you look like you’ve found it now.’
‘Thank you!’ I smile at Linda’s kind words. ‘I’m feeling pretty great at the moment.’
I’m about to leave when she taps me on the arm. ‘You’ll never guess who’s decided to pay the group a visit. Only Claudine Parish herself!’
My eyes widen. ‘Marjorie must be in an absolute state! Claudine’s visits don’t usually end well, do they?’
‘She doesn’t know.’ Linda’s voice is barely above a whisper now. ‘It’s some kind of spot inspection, apparently, so she can see how the group’s being run. My sister-in-law goes to a group in Leeds and they had a visit last week. Apparently, she heard Claudine saying to the group leader that Silverdale was next on her list. She’ll be here in about fifteen minutes or so.’
I bounce towards the queue for the scales, noting the absence of my usual anxiety over what they’ll say. I know in my heart I’ve done my best and that the outcome’s out of my hands now, which didn’t seem to register with me before. Of course, there’s the anticipation at seeing how I’ve done this week, but I’m not beating myself up for minor transgressions like I did at previous weigh-ins. As Doris Day sang, whatever will be will be.
‘How’s your week been?’ a voice behind me asks.
I turn to see Zara standing behind me and smile. ‘It’s been pretty great, thanks! I’ve followed the plan, managed a couple of treats, and even made it to the gym. How about you?’
Instantly, Zara’s pretty face falls and tears spring up in her huge blue eyes. She claps a hand to her mouth, but a sob escapes.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask, putting my hand on her shoulder. ‘Is everything OK?’
‘Craig left over the weekend,’ she weeps. ‘He packed his bags and he’s gone to stay at his mum’s.’
My jaw drops and my eyes widen. I can’t believe what I’ve just heard. ‘What? I thought everything was great with you two.’
She shrugs and wipes her eyes. ‘The miscarriages and ectopic pregnancies were tough on us, but I thought we were doing OK. He said it’s just not the same any more and that we aren’t the same people we used to be. I kind of agree with him, to be honest; the last few years have been so rough, and they’re bound to have changed us. We used to laugh so much and have fun together, but everything’s become about trying to have a baby. I just… I thought we were in it for the long haul, you know?’
‘Oh, Zara,’ I say softly. I pull her in for a hug and squeeze her tightly. ‘Maybe there’s a way back for you? Maybe if you have a bit of time apart, you can work things out.’
She sighs and pulls away from me to wipe more tears away. ‘Thanks for being optimistic, Cleo, but I think we’ve reached the end of the road. We’ve just been through too much and I can’t see how we can fix things now. Anyway, I’ve eaten like an absolute machine this week and I’m fully expecting to see a massive gain, but I don’t care. When you’re going through a break-up, Ben & Jerry’s is your best friend!’
She laughs, but there’s a sadness in her eyes that gives away how cut up she really is.
‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,’ I say. ‘I’m not exactly rich with experience in break-ups, but I do a good line in comfort food. My healthy brownie bites are to die for!’
‘Thanks, sweetie,’ she says, obviously hoping for a quick change of subject. ‘It’ll all come out in the wash, as they say. If you really want to cheer me up, why not share your story in the group tonight? I’ve been dying to hear it for ages, and now’s as good a time as any, right?’
She looks at me with a hopeful smile and links her arm through mine. I glance at her eyes, which are puffy and red from crying, and realise there’s only one thing I can say.
‘OK, if it’ll cheer you up!’
*
It’s another two pounds off for me this week, which I’m delighted with. Apart from a few last-minute nerves right before I jumped on the scales, I was a lot calmer than usual. I’m even prouder of that than I am about losing two pounds.
Zara, however, didn’t have such a good experience.
‘Four pounds on!’ She shakes her head and sighs. ‘My doctor won’t be happy, but it’s not like I’ll be going for IVF any time soon anyway.’
I hate how dejected she sounds, and put my arm round her. ‘You never know, everything might turn round for you when you least expect it. What is it they say? Miracles happen every day so don’t give up on anyone?’
Zara purses her lips, but can’t contain her giggles for very long. ‘You sound like every self-help book Craig’s mum’s ever given me for Christmas! What’s put the pep in your step anyway? Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re a lot bouncier today; you’re like the human version of an Owl City song!’
My heart does a happy little dance; it’s lovely that my efforts to reach for my dreams are being noticed.
‘OK, I’ll tell you, but it’ll sound stupid… I found this bucket list I made when I was fourteen recently, and it really made me think about a lot of things. For way too long, I thought it was too late for me to do anything with my life, but when I found the list I realised it wasn’t. So I’ve made a whole new bucket list and I’m going to tick as many dreams off as I can. It feels good to be working towards something, you know? I’ve even started learning Italian!’
Zara’s face brightens and she squeezes my arm. ‘Good for you! That’s an amazing thing to do. What kind of things are on your bucket list?’
I rattle through the items on it, including the ones I’ve ticked off so far, my excitement growing at a rate of knots. I can’t believe how one little list has changed my life so much.
‘You’re on fire, Cleo! What do you say we put the world to rights over a drink in the pub soon?’ she suggests.
‘Sounds good to me!’ I say with a bright smile.
A cough from the corner of the room brings silence over the gathered group. Marjorie steps into the centre of the circle, looking as scary as ever as she bares her teeth at us in what I think’s supposed to be a welcoming grin. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Claudine Parish slip in through the front door. She doesn’t step forward to announce herself and stays in the shadows. I’m not sure if anyone else has spotted her or not, but judging by the fact she’s still incognito, I’d sa
y not.
‘Another mixed week for the group,’ Marjorie says in that syrupy-sweet voice she does so well. ‘Some fantastic losses this week and, as usual, we’ve got our shining star, Sam, showing everyone how it’s done. Then, on the other side of the coin…’ Her eyes fall on Zara and her smile falters. ‘We have a four-pound gain from you, Zara. What on earth happened this week? You do realise your gain doesn’t just reflect badly on you, but also on me and the rest of the group? It brings morale down and we don’t want that, do we?’
From the look on Zara’s face, I can see Marjorie’s bothered her. She looks absolutely crushed.
‘Well, Marjorie,’ she says with a weak smile, ‘I’d like to see how well you cope if your husband ever announces he’s leaving you because things “aren’t the same any more”. I think under the circumstances, and given everything my husband and I went through together, putting on four pounds is pretty OK.’
Our group leader raises her eyebrows and does a little grimace. ‘Have you ever considered that your lack of commitment to the plan might’ve contributed to things going wrong? Perhaps if you’d been more committed to making positive changes in your life, your husband might’ve embraced them with you.’
My blood begins to boil and I leap out of my chair. ‘Oh, why don’t you shut the hell up, Marjorie?’
Her eyes widen and she flinches as though I’ve slapped her. Which, believe me, I want to.
‘Cleopatra—’
‘For the last time, my name is Cleo! Where the hell do you get off making Zara feel bad for her marriage splitting up? Making out she hasn’t been committed to following the plan is utter bullshit too. She’s been great ever since she joined and was doing it for such a great reason. If you ever bothered to listen to what we have to say, you’d know that. Instead, you make your snide little comments and bring us down when we haven’t had such a good week. You’re the group leader; it’s your job to inspire us, build us up so we can get to where we want to be, not tear us down! It’s like you enjoy seeing us fail because it makes you feel better about yourself.’
My entire body shakes, but the words come out perfectly. Marjorie’s face turns a horrid shade of puce and, for a moment, it looks like she might hit me.
‘Well,’ she replies, her voice eerily calm, ‘you’ve made your feelings perfectly clear, Cleo. But I think you’ll find you’re in the minority; the rest of the group thinks I’m a great leader.’
I can feel another Mean Girls moment coming on. ‘Let’s just see, shall we? Who here has ever felt personally victimised by Marjorie Newton?’
Several hands shoot up in the air. Some are a little slower to join in, but soon everyone apart from Sam has their hand up.
‘This is supposed to be a safe space for us, where we can come and share our journeys while we try and lose weight. We’re not going to succeed every week, but we need a leader who’s going to tell us that it’s OK to fail sometimes as long as you keep trying. That’s what we need you to be for us, but you’re not.’
‘Cleo’s right,’ says Zara. ‘It’s like you get more pleasure out of seeing us fail than succeed.’
‘I haven’t lost any weight since I started at this bloody group,’ grumbles Sheila. ‘Maybe that’s because of Marjorie.’
I sigh and try to keep my giggles in check. ‘Sheila, don’t take this the wrong way but nobody loses weight eating how you do! Sausage rolls and chocolate cake for lunch aren’t really diet-friendly.’
She nods in acknowledgement and has a little chuckle to herself.
‘Well, since so many of you think I’m an evil old bat who doesn’t want to see any of you succeed, I’ll be going. You’re on your own from now on!’
‘Oh no they aren’t.’ Claudine steps out of the shadows, arms folded and eyes firmly fixed on Marjorie. ‘I think you and I need to have a little chat, don’t you?’
Chapter Sixteen
Our group leader’s mouth moves, but no words come out. She looks utterly shell-shocked as she rounds on the group, staring wildly at us with a mixture of fear and suspicion.
‘All right,’ she says, her voice ragged, ‘which one of you went behind my back to Claudine? Which one of you thought I was so horrible that you just had to report me? Go on!’
Everyone looks at one another with confusion. Of course, nobody’s reported her; as Linda said, it’s just a spot inspection. Trying to tell Marjorie that won’t be easy, though.
Luckily, Claudine steps up to the plate. ‘It was a random visit actually. I wanted to see how this group was run and I’ve got my answer now. Let’s talk, Marjorie.’ She turns to address us. ‘I’m afraid we’ll be ending tonight’s meeting a little bit earlier than planned. Well done to you all on your losses and we’ll see you next week.’
She strides towards a room at the back of the community centre, Marjorie trailing in her wake.
Before Claudine shuts the door, she looks me straight in the eye. ‘Would you mind staying behind for a minute? I’ve got something I’d like to run by you.’
‘Me?’ I frown and look round at everyone else, exchanging worried glances with Zara. What could Carb Counters’ founder possibly want with me?
‘You.’ She smiles at me before heading inside the back room and slamming the door behind her.
Zara nudges me. ‘Ding dong the witch is dead! Well, flounced off in a huff anyway. Thanks for sticking up for me.’
I shake my head and wave a dismissive hand. ‘Don’t worry about it; I was just doing what anyone else would’ve done. I’ve wanted to tell Marjorie what I think of her for ages, so I was glad of the opportunity. Lucky Claudine was here to see her true colours as well.’
‘Hey, I didn’t see anyone else rushing to defend me the way you did! I really appreciate it. Although it looks like you won’t be telling your story to the group tonight.’
I look round and see some people making their way out the door, grabbing coats and bags on the way.
‘How about I tell you when we go for our drink next week?’ I suggest. ‘It doesn’t really matter to me if the group hears it, just you. I did promise, after all.’
‘You’re on.’ Zara grins and gets out of her seat. ‘You know, you’re pretty awesome, Cleo. Let me know what Claudine wants to see you about too!’
I’m left in the empty community centre by myself for a moment, while I stack all the chairs up and move the tables back to where they were. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I can feel confidence zinging through my veins. I may have only just started on my bucket list, but it’s already having positive effects. Maybe I’m really leaving Chunky Monkey behind, once and for all.
‘Hello. It’s Cleo, isn’t it?’ I recognise the voice behind me instantly as Claudine’s. Her distinctive Yorkshire accent bounces off every corner of the room.
I turn round to look at her. She’s effortlessly stylish in a pair of black skinny jeans, matching vest and leather jacket, with her caramel hair falling in waves round her shoulders.
I nod my head as my cheeks begin to burn. ‘That’s me! I’m the one who just made a massive scene in the middle of the group.’
She doesn’t say anything in reply. Instead, she looks at me with a curious expression on her face. There’s something a little unnerving about her; there’s a distinct chill in the air as she plonks herself down on one of only two chairs I haven’t stacked up yet.
‘What did you want to see me about?’ I ask, not sure I want to know the answer.
She motions for me to sit down on the remaining chair. After checking there’s no one else around to listen in, she leans closer to me like she’s about to impart some huge secret.
‘I was really impressed with the way you stood up to Marjorie,’ she says with a smile. ‘I’ve had my concerns about her for a while, and it was good to see someone give her what for. She’s definitely not what I’m looking for in a Carb Counters leader.’
I’m beginning to get a sense of where this conversation’s going, but I decide not to sa
y anything in case I’ve got the wrong end of the stick.
‘Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?’ Claudine suggests, twisting her body round so she’s looking fully at me.
I chuckle. ‘What would you like to know?’
‘How about starting with why you joined Carb Counters?’
I take a deep breath and tell her everything, starting with my accident and going through my weight gain, the diet pills and the binge-eating. I finish on a high note by telling her how far I’ve come and that I’ve even created a new bucket list to follow. I wouldn’t usually share such personal information with a complete stranger, but something tells me Claudine won’t judge me. Either that or I’m too scared to see what happens if I don’t tell her.
Claudine raises her perfectly arched eyebrows. ‘It’s quite an inspiring story you’ve got there: former dancer battles weight gain to achieve her wildest dreams.’
I squirm a little and shift from foot to foot. ‘You make it sound like a newspaper headline! I’m not doing anything that amazing; I’m just trying to achieve some things I’ve wanted to do since I was young, that’s all. Thank you, though; it’s nice to be told it’s inspiring. I let my weight hold me back for so long, but I don’t want to do that any more.’
She gets up and walks in a slow circle round my chair, arms folded and eyes slightly narrowed. I feel like she’s sizing me up, but for what I have no idea.
‘I like you, Cleo. I know we’ve only just met, but there’s something… I don’t know, real about you. You’re friendly, approachable and you’ve got an inspiring backstory; those are qualities I like to see in my group leaders.’
Uh-oh.
Now I definitely know what she’s driving towards, and even the thought makes my insides twist themselves into knots.
Time to play dumb. ‘What do you mean, your group leaders?’
Claudine comes to a halt in front of me. She reminds me of Marlon Brando’s character in The Godfather; I think she’s about to make me an offer I can’t refuse.
‘Cleo, I’d like you to run this Carb Counters group. We’ll put you through all the Inspire course training and teach you how to be a leader, but I think you’d be absolutely brilliant. You’re a prime example of how Carb Counters can help you not only drop the pounds, but reach for the stars! Plus, I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that Marjorie’s a terrible leader. Her targets are abysmal; hardly any of the members here have reached their goals. But you can change that! With you as the leader, membership numbers would skyrocket and everyone would be getting their Target pins in no time! What do you say?’