by Sophie Hart
Gill took a deep breath, biting back a dozen snappy retorts that were on the tip of her tongue. ‘Like Mike says,’ she replied calmly, ‘when we’re married, we’ll all be a proper family.’
Kelly snorted.
‘I do wish you’d make more of an effort. Besides, you’ll get to be a bridesmaid. Aren’t you looking forward to that?’
‘Little kids get to be bridesmaids,’ Kelly remarked witheringly. ‘I’m too old for that. It’ll just be embarrassing.’
‘What’ll be embarrassing?’
The two of them turned to see Mike standing in the doorway. He was thirty-eight, five years younger than Gill, and he was well built, with a pleasant face and a balding head that he shaved. His hands were covered in oil, from where he’d been tinkering with his motorbike out in the garage.
‘Nothing,’ Kelly muttered.
‘Right, nothing,’ he grinned, catching Gill’s eye. She flashed him a look of exasperation. ‘And what are you up to today?’ he asked, directing the question at Kelly.
Kelly gave an enormous sigh, dragging herself off the sofa as though it required superhuman effort. ‘Like you’d care,’ was her parting shot, as she sloped out of the door.
Mike looked at Gill, disappointment written across his face. ‘Something I said?’
‘Give her time. She’ll come round.’
‘It’s been almost two years. How much more time does she need?’
Gill said nothing, and Mike came to sit down beside her, catching sight of Blushing Brides.
‘How’s the planning coming along? Found anything yet?’
‘Sometimes I think this wedding’ll never happen,’ Gill sighed. ‘I barely get five minutes to myself in this house, let alone time to sit down and think about the venue and the guests and the food and the flowers and all of the endless stuff that goes into planning a wedding. Chair covers! Who knew that naked chairs were frowned upon and you need to hire things to dress them up in? And with a colour theme too.’
Mike smiled, leaning across to peck her on the lips. ‘Don’t stress about it. Let’s just do something small, like we agreed. We’re hardly Kim Kardashian and Kanye West.’
‘But even something small takes planning,’ Gill wailed.
‘Okay then, let’s elope. You and me, Gretna Green, next Saturday.’
‘With five kids in tow?’
‘Nah, we can leave them at home. They can fend for themselves for a weekend.’
Gill blanched. ‘Can you imagine? It’d be like Lord of the Flies. We wouldn’t have a house left to come back to.’
‘Which would solve the bedroom issue,’ Mike pointed out. ‘No one would have a room, so there’d be no arguing. We could just camp out in the garden, tell the girls to pretend they’re at a music festival. They’d love it.’
Gill burst out laughing, as Mike leaned across and kissed her once again. He might not be the richest or most handsome man out there, but he was steady, dependable, faithful – exactly what Gill needed.
‘Now, how about I wash this muck off my hands and make us both a nice cup of tea,’ Mike suggested, getting to his feet. ‘If I forage really hard, I might be able to find us some biscuits too.’
Gill looked across at the mug of cold tea sitting on the side table, realising that with all the comings and goings she’d never had time to drink it.
‘That,’ she said with a grateful smile, ‘sounds absolutely perfect.’
5
‘Marriage is not a word but a sentence’ – Oscar Wilde
‘So have you decided whether or not you’re going to do it?’ Nick asked, watching as Julia carefully placed Jack down on their bed. He rolled onto his back and kicked his legs joyously, apparently fascinated by the sight of his toes.
‘I think so.’ Julia crinkled her nose, mulling it over. ‘I might as well, right? I’ve been looking for something like this to get me out of the house – not that I don’t love being with Jack,’ she added hastily, laughing as she pretended to cover his ears. ‘But you know what I mean. Something to give me a sense of self again.
‘And Aimee seems really sweet,’ Julia chattered away, as she pulled a pair of brightly coloured patterned leggings out of the wardrobe and tugged them on. She turned round to view her bottom in the mirror, frowning at her reflection. ‘Plus how bad can Valerie be? I’m sure she’ll lighten up once I get to know her.’
‘A mother-of-the-groom-zilla? You’ve never dealt with one of those before. And your arse looks amazing, by the way.’
Julia flushed, realising what he’d just said. ‘I don’t think so, somehow. It’s still very much recovering from being pregnant and practically horizontal for the past six months. But tonight’s Zumba class is going to sort all that out. This too,’ she added, patting her bare stomach below her industrial-strength sports bra. ‘Not that it’ll ever be the same again.’ Julia cast a rueful glance at her newly created stretch marks and out-of-shape abs.
‘Mmm, it all looks good to me,’ Nick raised his eyebrows suggestively, as he leaned across to give her love handles a playful squeeze.
Julia slapped his hands away. ‘Hey, stop that! There are children present,’ she teased, glancing over at Jack who now seemed to be attempting to swallow his foot whole. Julia pulled on an exercise vest then bent her head to fuss over the baby, tickling his cheeks and blowing bubbles on his belly until he was laughing uncontrollably.
‘Uh oh, I think it might be nappy change time,’ Julia grimaced, as the unmistakeable smell hit her nostrils. ‘I’ll leave that one to Daddy, I think. I don’t want to be late.’
Nick looked horrified. ‘You’re leaving already? Can’t you just change him quickly before you go?’
‘No! You’re on your own with this one, buster, I’ve got to dash. Now, you know where his blanket and the spare nappies are. I’ve left milk in the fridge – it just needs warming through, but don’t forget to check the temperature on your wrist. Try and make sure he drinks at least three-quarters, and he should go down without a problem. And don’t forget to bring his giraffe to bed with him or else—’
‘I do know how to look after my own son,’ Nick snapped irritably, cutting her off.
Julia looked up in alarm, startled by his tone.
‘I know you do, I wasn’t saying…’ She trailed off and tried again. ‘Look, this is the first time I’ve left him at bed time, that’s all. I can’t help but worry.’
Nick ran a hand through his hair, and Julia noticed how tired he looked.
‘I know,’ Nick nodded. ‘But we’ll be fine.’
‘Sure?’
‘Yes.’ Nick sounded exasperated. ‘You get off and enjoy yourself.’
Julia turned towards the door then paused. ‘It’s just for an hour. Ninety minutes, max.’
‘Like I said, we’ll be fine.’
Julia hesitated, looking from Nick to Jack and back again. ‘Well, I’ll see you both later.’ She smiled weakly as she blew them both kisses, trying to shake off the unexpected swell of anxiety. With one final glance at her husband and baby son, she jogged down the stairs and out of the front door.
* * *
Debbie was standing nervously in the corridor of St Agnes’ church hall, pulling her top down self-consciously, and trying to ignore the feelings of nausea that clawed at her stomach.
She was convinced that she looked hideous. In black Lycra leggings and an oversized T-shirt that didn’t quite provide the coverage she’d been hoping for, Debbie felt that all her flaws were on display for the entire world to see. The tight, unflattering outfit seemed to have been designed to emphasise all the parts of her body she was most insecure about.
For a brief moment, Debbie considered not going in to the class at all. No one had seen her yet; all she had to do was turn around and go back outside, jump in the car and drive home. It was that simple.
But then she would feel like even more of a failure than she already did, Debbie realised, and she was determined to go through with this.
&nb
sp; Not even Stevie knew what she was planning – she’d deliberately chosen a night when he was working late so she could sneak out of the house and attend the Zumba class in secret. Not because she thought he’d make fun of her or anything, but because this was something she wanted to do by herself. For herself.
Summoning her courage, Debbie pulled open the heavy wooden door and walked into the room. Then almost walked straight back out again.
It seemed to be full of women chatting and laughing together as though they’d known one another for years. The wooden floors and exercise equipment piled up in corners brought back long-buried memories of humiliating PE classes in school, and Debbie immediately felt like an outsider; the unpopular, overweight kid that no one wanted on their team.
She stood awkwardly for a moment, fighting the urge to flee.
‘Hello! Are you here for the Zumba?’ A woman approached her with a wave, smiling cheerfully. She was in her mid-forties, with dyed black hair tied up in a high ponytail.
Debbie nodded gratefully. ‘Yes. Yes, I am.’
‘Great! No need to be nervous, we’re a friendly bunch. I’m Maggie, by the way.’
‘Debbie.’
‘Nice to meet you, Debbie! Now,’ Maggie continued, taking her by the arm and steering her into the centre of the room. ‘Have you ever done Zumba before?’
‘It’s my first time,’ Debbie confessed.
‘Not to worry, you’ll soon pick it up. It’s a lot of fun,’ Maggie winked. ‘Is there anything medical I need to know about? Sprains, breaks, old injuries, heart conditions?’
‘Not really. I haven’t exercised for a while – well, ages in fact – so I might be a bit out of shape.’
‘That’s fine, just go at your own pace. Usually if I go onto something more advanced, I’ll show you all a more basic routine you can stick to, if you’re not feeling ready to step it up just yet.’
‘Thanks,’ Debbie smiled, as Maggie skipped off to greet another new arrival.
Finding herself alone once again, Debbie glanced around, catching the eye of a young, blonde woman, who looked equally unsure of herself. The two of them smiled at one another, recognising the similarity of their situation, although Debbie secretly wondered what the woman was doing there. She was slim and pretty, with a figure Debbie would kill for. She couldn’t have been more than a size twelve at most, so why did she need to come to an exercise class?
A burst of music blasted out from the sound system in the corner, abruptly cutting short Debbie's musings. It was Latin, with fast flamenco guitar over an insistent hip hop beat. Debbie’s hips began to move involuntarily, a grin breaking across her face.
‘Okay everybody,’ Maggie called over the music, as she took up her position in front of the group. ‘Let’s Zumba! So we’re going to start with a little side step – side to side, just like this, that’s right. Swing your arms, loosen your shoulders, and feel the rhythm!’
Debbie giggled. Maggie’s enthusiasm was unmistakeable, and so far this was easy. Stepping from side to side she could manage!
‘So now we’re going to add in a little forward movement with a hip roll. That’s it, Ellie, just like that. Oh, I forgot to mention,’ Maggie continued, without breaking her stride. ‘You may have noticed that we have two newbies tonight, so please say hello to Julia and Debbie.’
Debbie felt her cheeks flame, turning redder than she already was, as everyone turned to stare. They all waved hello and smiled, as Debbie nodded back, realising that the blonde woman beside her was the other newcomer, Julia.
‘Fabulous, now let’s get those arms involved,’ cried Maggie, as she began twirling her wrists in time with the music. ‘And shake that booty!’
Debbie followed her lead, uncertainly at first as she tried to get her arms, legs and booty moving in unison, but soon she was doing what she hoped was a reasonable approximation of Maggie’s expert movements, and it felt surprisingly good. It was as though she was doing a proper dance routine, like a Pussycat Doll or a Spice Girl, and the thought made Debbie want to giggle.
‘Imagine you’re in a smoky little South American bar, up close and personal with a handsome Argentine gaucho!’ Maggie called out, with a sensual sweep of her hips that caused another ripple of laughter to run through the group.
Then the music changed, to a slightly quicker salsa track, and Debbie had to concentrate for a moment before finding her groove. But Maggie’s moves were easy to follow, and the Latin music made it impossible not to get caught up in the rhythms.
As Maggie added in an extra, more complicated step, Debbie caught sight of her reflection in the full-length mirrors opposite. She looked a sight – red-faced and sweaty, with her dark hair escaping from the rough ponytail she’d pulled it back into – but Debbie found that for once she wasn’t bothered. The person in the mirror looked joyful, carefree. It didn’t matter about her appearance; she was having a brilliant time!
Debbie certainly wasn’t the biggest in the class either. There were about thirty women altogether, of all different shapes and sizes, including one lady who looked about seventy and who was as thin as a rake; the bones of her arms and shoulders protruded like a spindly bird, but she was shaking her body like a born Latina. If she could do it, then so could Debbie!
The class passed in a blur of music and dancing and, before Debbie knew it, the hour was nearly up and Maggie was starting the cool-down session. Debbie was almost sorry that it was over; the endorphins were whizzing around her body, giving her a buzz that she hadn’t felt for a very long time.
‘Well done to all of you, great class,’ Maggie praised them, as the group burst into spontaneous applause.
They slowly began to disperse, moving to grab their bags and coats, saying goodbye to friends and promising one another that they’d be back next week. As Debbie headed across to get her handbag, she found herself next to Julia again. The two women grinned at one another, eyes sparkling from the intense workout.
‘So did you enjoy it?’ Julia asked brightly, as she pulled on a zip-up hoody then took a long drink from a bottle of water.
‘I did actually. Much more than I expected to. I’m trying to lose weight, you see,’ Debbie admitted, unexpectedly finding that her guard was down and she was happy to talk about it.
‘Yeah, me too,’ Julia replied, as the two of them began walking out of the room together. ‘It’s so bloody hard, isn’t it?’
Debbie was genuinely shocked. ‘But… but you don’t need to!’
‘You haven’t seen what’s under here,’ Julia joked, gesturing to her jacket. ‘Seriously, I had a baby just over six months ago, and it’s not a pretty sight. This is the first time I’ve exercised in months.’
‘Oh, congratulations! On the baby, not the exercising,’ Debbie added hastily, as Julia laughed. ‘What did you have?’
‘A boy, called Jack.’
‘Aw, that’s lovely,’ Debbie gushed. ‘I love kids.’
‘Do you have any?’
‘No, not yet. But I work in a nursery. It hasn’t put me off, surprisingly.’
‘Which nursery? I might be looking for one soon. I’m thinking of going back to work so I’ll need to find somewhere to take Jack when my husband’s at work. It wouldn’t be full time for now – just the occasional afternoon here and there.’
‘Well we could definitely do that,’ Debbie insisted as the two women strolled along the road, faces glowing in the chilly night air. The cold was a welcome relief after the hot and sweaty hall. ‘I work at Two Trees, do you know it? It’s just off the high street, near the Scout Hut.’
‘That’s really close to me! I’m at the other side of the main road, near the big Tesco,’ Julia exclaimed, as they reached her Renault Clio and she stopped walking.
‘Obviously it comes highly recommended,’ Debbie grinned. ‘But it really is a lovely place. They’ve got great facilities, and it was all completely refurb’d last year, so everything’s fresh and new.’
‘Sounds perfect, I’ll def
initely check it out. So will I see you back here next week?’
Debbie thought about it, a smile slowly breaking across her face. ‘Yeah. You will.’
She waved as Julia got into the car and drove off, then marched briskly down the street to find her own vehicle. In spite of her aching limbs and sweaty body, Debbie meant what she’d said to Julia. She’d had far more fun than she’d expected tonight, and in just a few short days she could already feel that her body was changing. She’d been sticking to her diet – well, with the occasional slip-up; she was only human after all – and already her clothes felt looser, her stomach seemed flatter, and the feeling spurred her on, determined to complete the challenge that she’d set herself.
As she walked along, Debbie found herself drifting back to the familiar daydream that was now her daily motivation: her as a slim, beautiful bride, walking down the aisle to gasps of astonishment and Stevie’s adoring face. She wanted it so badly; it felt so close that she could almost touch it.
This time, Debbie was determined not to fail.
6
‘The trouble with some women is that they get all excited about nothing – and then marry him’ – Cher
Aimee stepped out of her sporty little convertible Mercedes, which she’d parked next to Jon’s gleaming white Porsche, acutely aware of how out of place both vehicles looked beside the ageing Fords and rusty Peugeots in the staff car park. Jon’s was in the executive space, where ‘Reserved for Director’ had been painted onto the tarmac, and Aimee’s was in one of the VIP visitor spaces alongside.
The Mercedes had been a present from Jon on her last birthday, when she’d turned twenty-three. There was no way Aimee could have afforded to buy it for herself. If the truth be told, she felt somewhat self-conscious in the showy convertible, with its personalised number plate and shining alloy wheels. She’d tried to decline the present, suggesting something more low-key, but Jon had insisted that she keep it. All of her friends thought she was crazy; if her rich, older boyfriend wanted to buy her a brand new Mercedes, it would be madness to refuse.