The Fat And The Thin Of It

by Julie Croft

room to pay.

  A car horn tooted outside Jackie’s house. She pulled back the living room curtain and saw Jill and Terry sitting in the Range Rover, and they flashed the headlights.

  “Ma-a-ark!” she shouted up the stairs. “I’m going!”

  There was a pause before a door opened and shut, then Mark loped down the stairs. “So like where’re you going again?”

  Jackie sighed inwardly. “I’m going to Ibiza for the weekend with Jill, remember? I’ve told about four times, you’ve seen me packing, I gave you fifty quid to get take-away or do what you like with.”

  She made a move to pick up her case, hoping that he’d make a move and offer to carry it for her. He didn’t.

  “Don’t have a party here, don’t play your music ridiculously loud and…” she wanted to say ‘and don’t hold an orgy with ‘like Teesha’ in your bedroom’, but she bit her tongue. “Respect the house, okay?”

  Mark rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. “Yeah, okay.” He leaned on the open front door with his arms crossed. “I hope you like sort of enjoy yourself, right? You kind of like so need this break.”

  Jackie smiled at her son. That was the closest she was going to get to a term of endearment from him. She smiled and wrapped her free arm round his neck and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you, son.” She rolled her case to the Range Rover. “Be good!”

  Terry got out and took her case from her. He took her elbow and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Hi Jackie. So sorry for all that’s happened.” He smiled sympathetically before putting her case in the boot.

  Jackie climbed into the back seat and waved at Jill, who waved back. “How are you feeling, love?” Jill asked her.

  Jackie gave a nervous giggle. “Excited, nervous, can’t wait to get my hands round Bob’s neck and strangle him…”

  “Jackie,” Jill gave her a disapproving look. “We’ve talked about this.”

  “Yeah, I know; behave like a lady and be civilised and dignified.” Jackie said in parrot-fashion. “But I still want to strangle him and Triple F.”

  Jill gave her a quizzical look. “‘Triple F’?”

  “The Fucking Flamenco Floozy. It’s what I call that woman because I find it hard to actually say her name.” Jackie answered.

  Jill turned her head to the front so Jackie wouldn’t see her smile. Even in dire circumstances, Jackie could be so funny without realising it. There was a raw innocence about her that made her endearing as well as exasperating, and even though she had the patience of Job, she could be very combustible when pushed to the limit. She would really love to put the Hairy-it and Jackie in the same room, lock the door and leave them there for an hour, and she knew who would still be standing when she unlocked it again.

  They drove to Gatwick exchanging banal chit-chat about the kids, the weather and the passing country side, avoiding at all costs the reason the two women were making the trip to Ibiza. Jackie, from the back of the vehicle, could watch Terry and Jill and observe them interacting. She was happy to see how much more relaxed Jill seemed, and Terry was definitely more chatty and amiable. It seemed to Jackie that their relationship was heading for a different phase; a phase where they could enjoy each other’s company in their middle years without the pressures and stress of the former years. ‘God, Bob and I should have been getting to this phase by now’ she thought to herself, and she had to admit that there was a very hefty green-eyed monster perched on her back.

  When they arrived at the airport at four o’clock it was quite dark and sombre, but inside, the airport was bustling with travellers, cabin crew and ground staff moving backward and forward in waves as if moved by a tide. Jill and Terry embraced and kissed as if they were to be apart for months rather than days, and Jackie turned away, slightly embarrassed but more envious of such a demonstration in public.

  The check-in went smoothly and they passed through passport control quite quickly. There didn’t seem to be a lot of travellers at this time of year, probably because everyone had done their skiing or sunbathing over the Christmas holidays and were having to get back into the routine of work. There were more men in suits with briefcases than travellers wearing flip-flops and silly straw cowboy hats, although the women did encounter a boisterous group of girls dressed in fluffy pink boas and tutus on their way to a hen weekend.

  Jill checked the flight board. “Well, it looks like we’ll be taking off on time, too.” She looked at Jackie. “We’ve got about half an hour before boarding; do you fancy a drink for Dutch courage?”

  Jackie gave her a small smile. “Why not?”

  They sat on bar stools and sipped on their Martinis, and Jill flicked through her new mobile phone and checked yet again that she had Bob’s address and mobile number. Richard hadn’t liked the idea of them going to Ibiza and had been reluctant to give Bob’s details to her at first, but he eventually agreed with Jill that Jackie had to see him and sort out, at the very least, the financial side of things. Bob was still getting paid his salary from the estate agency, but he’d redirected it to a bank in Ibiza.

  “The absolute least he could do is to keep the salary in the English bank so that the bills are covered, don’t you think?” Jill had reasoned, and then added, “He might think that Jackie and Mark can survive on what he so very generously gave them for the rest of their lives, but I can guess he’s got a hefty amount of dodgy cash flowing through his fingers like water all the time.”

  “Bottoms up.” Jackie broke through Jill’s revelry. She raised her glass and drained it, and Jill did the same. “Let’s get to the gate.”

  “Oh, thank Christ we’re here.”

  Jackie flopped onto one of the beds as soon as they entered the hotel room. She’d vomited for almost all of the flight and she felt like death. “What in hell’s name made me feel like this? I hardly ate anything before we got on the plane.”

  Jill threw their cases on the floor with an exhausted grunt. “So you don’t think the three Martinis you had because the flight was delayed for two hours had anything to do with it?”

  She looked at her skirt and wrinkled her nose. Jackie had missed one of the flight barf bags and she could really smell the acrid vomit on her now. “Ugh, I hope they do dry cleaning here.” She took off the skirt and flopped on the other bed in her shirt and tights.

  “Hey,” said Jackie, looking up at the ceiling. “This looks a pretty good hotel, doesn’t it?”

  Jill turned her head towards where Jackie was looking. “How can you tell? Is it because the ceiling’s paintwork is in a better state than your own?”

  Jackie gave a weak, sarcastic laugh. “Nah, it’s because I’ve just noticed the size of the beds. They’re almost two doubles.” She was lying spread-eagle on her bed. “Look, I can just about grab the sides of it.”

  Jill rolled her eyes, but also smiled at Jackie’s childishness. “Love, I’m going to see if room service is available.” Jill turned and took the little booklet from her bedside table. “Do you fancy anything?”

  “Wow, Jill is going to eat something,” she cooed. “Shall I hoist the flag?”

  Jill glared at her. “Don’t start that again. Do you want something or not?”

  Jackie shook her head.

  “Are you worried you’ll disappear if you lose your figure?” Jill raised an eyebrow.

  Jackie sneered and shook her head again. She rolled over and lay face down on the bed.

  Jill scanned the booklet. She’d only had one Martini, but hadn’t eaten anything either since lunchtime as she’d been too busy looking after Jackie on the flight. “Right. I’m going to have a club sandwich and sparkling water.” She closed the booklet and picked up the phone, pushed a couple of buttons and waited.

  “Make it two, then. I’ll gain half a pound so I won’t lose my voluptuous curves and disappear.” Jackie mumbled through her pillow.

  “Yeah, I thought so… hello? Room service? Could I order two club sandwiches and two bottles of sparkling water?... sparkling water… oh, right. Wa
ter with gas, then… thank you.” She hung up.

  Jill picked up the TV control and switched on the TV, flicked through a few channels and plumped for Sky News. There wasn’t much else on in English unless you paid extra.

  “Jill,” Jackie’s voice was muffled by the pillow. “Should I call Bob now?”

  “At half past one in the morning? I don’t think so.” Jill was staring at the TV but not really watching it. “Go and have a shower while we’re waiting for the sandwiches. You stink of vomit.”

  Jackie dutifully shuffled to the bathroom and stripped. She caught sight of herself in the huge mirror behind the two sinks and stood staring at the image while she waited for the water to heat up in the shower. “God in heaven, girl,” she muttered to the image. “You’re huge, lumpy, saggy and generally a very sorry sight.” She turned and examined her backside and wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You’d better make sure that by this time next year you’ve lost three stones, then you can use some of the money to have a body tuck,” she slapped her rump. “And you might just find yourself a sexy beast of a new husband.”

  After having hot water pound the back of her neck, Jackie felt a lot better. She brushed her teeth with the complimentary toothbrush and paste, then wrapped herself in one of the towelling robes that were hanging behind the door. When she and a cloud of steam emerged back into the room, there was a sandwich and a bottle of water sitting