by Carol Wyer
‘Hi, I’m Charlie. I’m also in no position to comment. I’ve got a jumper at home with a reindeer on the front and I bought it myself.’
‘If ever you fancy replacing it with a new one, I have a large collection of tasteless huge jumpers, exceptionally long scarves and a nice array of bobble hats that don’t match. You’d be welcome to any of them. Don’t suppose I’ll need them here, will I, Jasmine?’
‘No. You won’t. I hope you are wearing something comfortable to exercise in, Susannah.’
‘Oh yes, I went on the belly dancing website you emailed me and bought some harem pants. They looked good on the skinny mare wearing them on the website but I look as if someone has inflated my legs.’ She shrugged off her jumper and spun round showing off her outfit of purple pants and matching crop top. Her stomach hung over the pants. She wobbled it unselfconsciously. ‘However, I think I’m perfect for belly dancing classes. Can’t get a much bigger, wobblier belly than this one. Not so much a muffin top as an entire Madeira cake,’ she continued and shimmied her shoulders so her ample bosoms bounced dangerously in her purple top. ‘I’m really looking forward to this. I read that belly dancing is not only good for fitness but is excellent for women like me, going through the change. I certainly need to feel sexier. My husband, Dave, hasn’t seen much action in recent months, what with hot flushes and me feeling off sex. He’ll be off with a younger model if I don’t sort myself out,’ she said.
‘You’ll feel heaps better about yourself in no time,’ replied Jasmine. ‘I have yet to meet a woman who hasn’t enjoyed the classes and hasn’t become much more confident about her body. It’s wonderful for releasing stress too and for getting fit, of course. He won’t be able to keep his hands off you after a few sessions.’
‘Can’t wait,’ enthused Susannah, removing trainers and multi-coloured socks that resembled gloves, covering each toe individually.
‘Your mother?’ asked Charlie, pointing at the socks.
‘Oh no, they’re my daughter’s. I nicked them from her drawer. I couldn’t find any of my own that were clean. These keep your feet really toasty warm,’ she said, wriggling her podgy toes. ‘So, Charlie, what’s made you take up belly dancing?’
‘I’m here because of a promise I made while completely sozzled at a New Year’s Eve party. My friend has a list of challenges that I have to try and complete this year. They’re really things she would like to do herself but she had a nasty accident a few years ago and is in a wheelchair now. She can’t use her legs. She’s decided I’m to be her stand-in if you’ll excuse the pun and I’m going to have a go at her bucket list, or as we call it a Carpe Diem list.’
‘Wow! That’s amazing. What else has she got lined up?’
‘Not sure. She hasn’t told me yet. Knowing her, there will be some outrageous suggestions. I’ve already had to eat insects; this can’t be worse than that.’
‘Hello, I’m not late, am I?’ called a woman, peering around the studio door. ‘I’m Marcia Black,’ she said. Her accent belied her Australian roots.
‘No, not at all, Marcia,’ replied Jasmine. ‘Come and meet Susannah and Charlie. Susannah was showing us her new costume.’
Susannah twirled again. ‘And this is my hip belt,’ she said, pulling a scarf adorned with strings of coins around her stomach. ‘There are more coins on this than there are in the Bank of England’s vaults. I needed an extra-extra-large belt. Did you ever see the three hippopotami dance in Walt Disney’s Fantasia?’ asked Susannah. ‘Well, that’s me. I’m like one of those hippos. I hope Jasmine can work miracles.’
Charlie shook her head in disagreement. ‘Didn’t the hippos dance in tutus?’ she asked.
‘Yes, but I look in this mirror and all I see is hippo,’ replied Susannah.
‘That’s good then because you’ll definitely need hips for this activity. And, I have come prepared too,’ Marcia commented, shrugging off a long camel coat to reveal a chubby body dressed in a hacked off T-shirt, from which spilled a brown belly and under which sat a pair of tracksuit bottoms covered by a neon-green scarf. She was, at best, five foot tall, rotund and with large breasts that strained dangerously at her T-shirt. Her eyes twinkled with merriment and she exuded mischief. Her light golden brown hair was cut in a short sharp bob that framed her round face. She wore several jangling bangles and enormous silver hooped earrings that swung as she moved.
‘If you’re a hippo, then, with these dangling earrings and this superb physique, I must resemble a baby elephant. I’m a little worried about shimmying. I’m not sure I can contain these puppies for too long. I had to strap them down for this class. We won’t have to wear nipple tassels will we, Jasmine?’ she asked, pointing at her enormous boobs with a grin.
Charlie bit her lip to prevent herself from spluttering with laughter. Her fellow dancers were proving to be highly entertaining.
‘Guess that makes me the portly giraffe of the group,’ said Charlie, conscious that she towered above both women. ‘What a trio – we’re like The Wild Bunch.’
Marcia barked out a high-pitched, infectious laugh.
‘Well, we’re off to a good start,’ sniggered Susannah. ‘This should be called a belly laughing class.’
Now the troops were gathered, Jasmine assumed a more authoritative air, tossed back her hair and glided into place in front of the women so they were all facing the large mirror.
‘We need to start by warming up a little. We can’t go straight into dancing or we might do some damage. Right, space out and stand up as if a string is pulling you up from your head. No slouching. Belly dancing is all about keeping your core well-supported and not stressing your spine. Keep an erect posture – make sure your back is straight and your chest is out.’
Marcia stuck her breasts out as far as she could, making the others laugh.
‘Not that far, Marcia,’ said Jasmine, trying not to chuckle. ‘I can see I am going to have my work cut out with you three. Okay, don't slouch, Charlie. Don’t hide your body. You’re tall. Be proud of that fact.’
She pressed a button on a remote control then placed it on the floor in front of her. The sound of modern music filled the small studio. Jasmine attempted to guide her uncoordinated group through a sequence of moves designed to warm their muscles. There were more giggles as Charlie got left and right mixed up, and crashed into Susannah, who puffed and wheezed through the entire exercise.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Charlie said when they finally came to the end of the warm-up.
‘Hey, it’s not a problem,’ puffed Susannah. ‘It’s not all going to be so exhausting, is it? I might need to have a sit down. I’m not used to all this activity. I’m built for comfort not speed.’
‘You’ll soon get fitter but don’t overdo it. If you feel too tired, just stop to catch your breath,’ Jasmine encouraged. ‘Charlie, coordination is often difficult at first but you’ll get the hang of it. Could you please remove your T-shirt now so you can see your stomach, because we’re going to start working it. Don’t be shy.’
No longer as self-conscious, Charlie removed her top. Marcia caught her eye and wobbled her belly once more causing her to laugh. She rippled her own in response. This was becoming far more fun than she’d anticipated.
‘Right, let’s all space out again. Stand up, shoulders back, bend your knees slightly and hold those abdominal muscles in tightly. We’re going to try a few simple movements. Copy me. We’ll start with some belly rolls. No laughing now. Pull in the top and bottom half of your belly. Release the top first followed by the bottom. Start slowly then increase the speed gradually until it feels natural and easy like your belly is rolling. Very good. That’s it.’
Charlie pulled a face as she watched her belly rolling. She caught Marcia’s eye. Marcia winked and supported her boobs with her hands so she could see her stomach moving.
‘Next, we’re going to pretend we are the singer Shakira. We’re onto the hips. Shimmy the hips as you keep the torso still. Susannah, you are jingling li
ke a pro. Hip scarves or belts aren’t just to make lots of noise, they help with the pelvic tilt. You need to get one for the next class, Charlie. Okay, start moving the hips from one side to the other slowly and then a little faster and faster still. With your knees bent and keeping the ribcage still, circle your hips. Move the hips in circles and then switch to move them the other way. Now we need to add those arms and hands. Visualise your arms as puppet snakes.’
‘I look more like a drunken octopus,’ said Charlie. ‘Or, a Hydra.’
Marcia sniggered. ‘Nice one. A Hydra. I like it.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Jasmine. ‘Let the arms flow more. There, you’ve got it. Lift the right arm. Lift the shoulders, the elbow, wrist and the fingers. Now, lower the right arm as you lift the left arm in a similar manner. Lovely.
‘Now you’ve got some basic moves, I’m going to put on some Arabic music and we’ll have a go at a simple shimmy.’
Jasmine made it look effortless and was so enthusiastic that all three women soon felt less awkward and were wiggling their hips and arms like Mick Jagger performing on stage. Charlie found herself completely involved in the class. It was more effort than expected but definitely fun. She would have to thank Mercedes for forcing her into doing the class.
‘And to end the lesson, I’m going to do my party trick and show you how to flutter your bellies.’ Jasmine raised her arms up high then puffed hard in short breaths through her nose. Her stomach rippled in and out quickly in a seamless movement.
‘Oh wow!’ Susannah said. ‘I may be exhausted but I’ve got to have a go at that. My Dave will love that.’
She inhaled and made snorting noises. Her stomach merely inflated and deflated again.
‘You must relax your stomach muscles more. It won’t work otherwise. I’ve got a fun exercise to help you,’ said Jasmine. ‘Get down on your knees and pretend to be pigs.’
A look of surprise passed between the women.
‘Go on. It works. It isolates the muscles you need to flutter. Don’t be shy. Look, I’ll join you.’
Jasmine took the lead, lowered her body to the floor and made a squealing noise. The women followed suit and dropped to the floor on all fours and began to squeal like pigs. They didn’t seem to be able to flutter any muscles but it didn’t matter as they were having so much fun. After a while, Marcia started sniggering. Susannah joined her. The women snorted even more. Jasmine and Charlie got caught up in it too. Hysteria set in.
‘Whatever do we look like?’ Susannah spluttered. ‘This little piggy went to market,’ she said in between laughs.
‘This piggy stayed at home,’ continued Marcia.
‘And this little piggy went wee, wee, wee, all the way home,’ finished Charlie racing off on all fours with a final squeal and running directly into the path of a pair of men’s brogue shoes. She looked up to see a dark-haired, well-dressed man. He was smiling broadly at her and she realised it was the same man who had been eating at Archipelago.
‘Ah! This is what you might call slightly embarrassing,’ she mumbled. The man continued to grin at her, one eyebrow cocked.
‘I’m so sorry, ladies. I appear to have arrived too early. Jasmine, you weren’t in your office and I couldn’t see anyone in the studio through the window, so I came in hoping to find you. I had no idea that…’ he tailed off, lost for words. ‘Sorry,’ he said.
Charlie thought he didn’t look sorry at all.
‘I’ll leave you to… it. Jasmine, I’ll wait in your office. Apologies again,’ he added and swept out of the room before Charlie could clamber to her feet. At the sight of Charlie’s face, Susannah collapsed on the floor, guffawing. Marcia who had found the whole episode, hilarious stifled her hysteria by stuffing the end of a sequined scarf in her mouth.
Ten
The next morning, Charlie arrived at the Art Café earlier than usual. She kicked the door open with her foot and attempted to manoeuvre around the tables while balancing several Tupperware containers containing cakes.
‘I was thinking about you yesterday,’ said Art, appearing from behind the counter to help her. He took the plastic boxes from her. ‘I had an idea that maybe you would like to put on a belly dancing performance one afternoon, here in the café, or possibly serve the customers in your outfit!’ He waggled large bushy eyebrows at her. She was fairly certain he was joking but since his large moustache covered his mouth, it was difficult to tell.
‘Let me think about that for a moment,’ said Charlie. ‘Um… no!’ she finished emphatically.
‘It was worth asking,’ chuckled Art.
‘The class was a laugh but there is no way I am shimmying around the café in a belly dancing outfit. The public would be put off their food for sure. Talking of which, what’s the soup of the day?’ Charlie asked, changing the subject.
‘Carrot and coriander. I’m also making vegetarian quiches, cottage pies and apple crumble. People love comfort food when it’s chilly. Did you get my message about the Death by Chocolate Cake?’
‘Yep, you sold out. I baked two more last night. They’re in the bottom boxes. I’ll put one out in the display cabinet and leave the other in the larder. You did sell it, didn’t you, and not scoff it yourself?’
‘I might have had a tiny slice for afternoon tea,’ he replied, rubbing his stomach. ‘Let’s get down to business. It’s Mother and Toddler group at nine-thirty. Patricia has fired the pots the little ones painted last week, so they can take them home today. You’ll need to put out the large tubs of crayons in the Rainbow room. I’ve already laid out books and the soft toys.’
‘I baked two dozen fairy cakes for them. They enjoyed those last week. I put pink and blue icing on the top of them this time.’
‘Super,’ replied Art, wiping his hands on his apron. ‘Upstairs in the back room, we have a creative writing group. They arrived first thing, so if you could nip up there in an hour with cakes and coffee that would be much appreciated. There’s no one in the front room. It has been taken since last November when we had the upholstery club mending chairs in there. I probably need to advertise it some more.’
‘Is Patricia working in the craft shop?’
‘No, she’s halfway through some pottery pieces she wants to paint. She sold three of those fat cow pots last week so she’s trying out a line in chubby sheep. A new artist asked us to display some painted mirrors in the shop. They’re a little too ornate for my taste, but if they sell, we’ll get our usual ten per cent commission. We’ll cover the shop between us.’ he replied, tugging on his moustache thoughtfully. ‘Oh yes, I almost forgot, someone has kindly donated more books for our Quiet Room. They’re in a cardboard box in the corridor. If you get time, could you arrange them for me please?’
‘Of course. I’ll get these cakes out and then do it before it gets too busy.’
Charlie unpacked her cakes, cut them into generous-sized portions and displayed them in the cabinet. She was washing her hands when Patricia, dressed in jeans and a large shirt that was splattered with small globs of clay, came bustling through the door. She held three small painted mugs in her hands.
‘Not bad at all,’ she said, waving the mugs. ‘One or two of the little darlings show talent. Look at this one.’ She showed Charlie a mug. Someone had painted a rainbow on it and under it written Katie.
‘That’s rather good given the children are only three and four years old.’
Charlie looked at the assembled mugs now resting on the counter. She turned one around. It was painted yellow. On the front was a large smiling face with blue eyes and corkscrew hair. For Mummy was written in child’s writing under the happy face.
‘Oh, you would treasure that forever, wouldn’t you?’ Charlie said, a small lump forming in her throat. ‘Okay, I’d better get the books unpacked,’ she continued, hastening away before emotions overtook her. She owned a mug that Amy bought for her. It said World’s Greatest Mum. She never used it, but every now and then, she removed it from the cupboard and washed it with
care before replacing it at the front of the cupboard.
There was a regular in the Quiet Room when Charlie walked in. She sat in her usual seat with a notepad resting on her knee. She smiled at Charlie then went back to her scribbling. She was a poet and often came into the café to get inspiration and jot down some verse. The café encouraged a variety of artists to visit. Inspired by cafés in France and Prague where great artists, philosophers and writers, gathered in the past to share ideas and enjoy a convivial atmosphere, Art and Patricia sunk all their savings into renovating an old house and transforming it into the Art Café.
There were three separate small rooms at the front of the building: the Quiet Room where writers and readers would enjoy some peace and gather thoughts, the Main Room where general customers or business people had access to Wi-Fi and the Rainbow Room, for families.
The Rainbow Room was Patricia’s idea. It offered something different to ordinary cafés. Parents could purchase food and drink for themselves, children’s meals for their little ones and also buy a plain pottery plate, cup or mug for the children to decorate with the special paints that were supplied, and then Patricia would fire them in her kiln. Parents loved the idea and brought their children in to make gifts for relatives.
Behind the rooms, a restaurant catered for twenty people with a small open kitchen. A corridor with walls covered in artwork led from the restaurant to the toilets and into another room filled with goods created by local artists, ranging from key rings and bookmarks to paintings. Patricia and Art wanted to showcase local talent and give artists a place where their goods might be purchased.