‘Right,’ he said. ‘Let’s get this over with.’
He had stuck to the two thousand calories but who knew if it had worked? He had no idea what he was going to do if it hadn’t.
He took a deep breath and stepped up on the scales. There was a short silence and then Trudie looked up at him.
‘You’ve lost half a stone,’ she said, staring at him as if he were from an alien planet.
‘Excellent!’ he said, beaming at her.
‘Me next,’ said Lucy, standing up. ‘I’ve been really good too.’
She stepped up on to the scales briefly and then stepped off before giving a scream of joy.
‘I’ve lost four pounds! And I had a piece of cake yesterday! Think how much I would have lost if I hadn’t had that!’
‘Well,’ said Trudie, trying to gather her thoughts together. ‘Let’s try and not have any cake next week.’
‘I won’t if you won’t,’ said Lucy, grinning at her.
Maggie smiled at her daughter as she returned to the chairs and gave her a quick hug. Then she looked at Kathy.
‘You had a bad week too, did you?’ said Kathy.
Maggie nodded. ‘Terrible.’
‘No, you didn’t,’ said Lucy. ‘We were really good. We only had those healthy meals in the evening, followed by a yoghurt.’
Maggie hung her head in shame. ‘Yes, but I had already eaten for Britain the rest of the day when everyone else was out.’
Lucy shook her head. ‘I don’t believe it.’
The others persuaded both Kathy and Maggie to get weighed anyway. Thankfully both their weights had stayed the same.
‘I’m very disappointed in both of you,’ Trudie told them, finally able to criticise someone and get it out of her system. ‘You’ve really let yourself and the whole class down. You must do better next week. For me, if not for you.’
‘Wicked old witch,’ muttered Kathy as Violet handed them a mug of tea when they were back home.
‘At least you didn’t put on any weight,’ Edward told them.
‘Yeah but you’ve all done so well,’ said Kathy.
‘I ended up in hospital,’ Edward reminded her. ‘I have to lose weight otherwise I’ll be straight back there.’
When he gave Kathy a small smile, she found herself blushing and had to look away. She had had all sort of feverish dreams about Edward whilst she was ill. Now she was trying to forget about them.
‘And I’m getting married,’ Violet told her. ‘I’ve got a goal.’
‘Me too,’ said Lucy. ‘I’ve had a miserable time in college being fat. I’m not going to be fat at university as well.’
‘I’ve been lying on the sofa with flu feeling sorry for myself but that’s no excuse,’ said Kathy.
‘Yes it is, you were ill,’ said Maggie. ‘Every time I’m with the family, I eat really well.’
‘That’s good,’ said Violet.
Maggie shook her head. ‘But it’s a lie. Every time Lucy or Gordon go out, I end up shovelling as much food as I can down my throat. When they get back home, I go into serene goddess mode again.’
Lucy looked shocked but didn’t saying anything.
‘I made myself throw up after eating once,’ Kathy found herself saying. ‘That was when I decided I’d had enough.’ And then she burst into tears. ‘Everyone’s doing so well,’ she sobbed.
‘I’m not, am I?’ said Maggie, giving her a hug.
‘Why am I so rubbish at everything?’ Kathy hiccuped, trying to calm down.
‘You’re not,’ said Violet.
‘It’s all right for you to talk,’ snapped Kathy. ‘You’re losing weight.’
Violet blushed red, but found herself being a little bit defensive. ‘Look, I stuck to my calorie count,’ she said, trying not to snap back. ‘Didn’t you?’
To her horror, Kathy ducked her head in shame. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bark at you. It’s not your fault.’
‘That’s OK,’ Violet said quickly. ‘I know how difficult it is.’
‘Do you?’ said Kathy, with a throaty cough that she had yet to get rid of. ‘You’ve lost ten pounds.’
‘Yes, and I’ve got another sixty to go,’ Violet told her. ‘This isn’t easy.’
Kathy began to say something but it was lost in a cacophony of coughing. Violet went and got her a glass of water.
‘Thanks,’ Kathy was finally able to croak. ‘Sorry, folks. Hopefully germ-free now.’
‘Poor you,’ said Maggie. ‘Are you OK now?’
‘I don’t think I’m quite up to running a marathon,’ said Kathy with a smile. ‘But then again, when was I ever?’
‘So?’ said Maggie, looking at Violet. ‘What’s happened to make you into a diet goddess? I mean, I understand the calorie counting. But how come you’ve just gone straight into it without any difficulties? What happened to you?’
Violet sighed. ‘The most awful night of my life.’
They all stared at her. But it was time to be honest. Really honest. So she told them about hiding in the toilets at the wedding and what she overheard the women saying about her.
‘Those bitches!’ said Lucy.
Violet sighed. ‘I’d like to say it was the most embarrassing moment of my life but even that wasn’t it.’
Everyone was waiting and watching her. Oh well. She had nothing to lose but her dignity and that had gone a long time ago.
‘I was feeling really low one day and I went to get my favourite chocolate cake from M and S. To eat it all myself, obviously. But there was only one left and some guy was holding it. So I snatched it out of his hands and ran away with it.’
Lucy and Kathy giggled.
Violet shook her head. ‘That’s not the really bad bit. The guy is now my boss.’
Even Edward was shocked at this. ‘You have to see him every day?’ he spluttered.
Violet nodded.
‘What’s he like? Did he say anything?’
‘He’s OK. He made a little joke and that was it.’
‘And?’ asked Maggie.
‘I’ve told you everything,’ said Violet, sighing.
‘No. Was it the milk chocolate cake with the sprinkles or the white chocolate gateau?’
It raised a smile from Violet. It was funny how she felt she could speak freely in front of these relative strangers. Perhaps it was the fact that they were all in the same boat, all fighting the weight issue. But Violet could really could speak her mind with them. It was quite liberating.
‘How did we get here?’ said Kathy, shaking her head.
‘Long journey,’ said Edward, blowing out a sigh.
‘Via every drive-thru McDonald’s,’ said Kathy.
And they all laughed again.
‘Look,’ said Violet. ‘I’ve done nothing special. It’s not rocket science. I’m just keeping a close eye on my calories. And I write down everything so I know I’m not going over my limit.’
‘It was easier than I thought,’ Lucy told them. ‘The food’s not very exciting but it works. Honest.’
‘Yeah, but you’ve got a young metabolism,’ said Maggie. ‘You’re not old like me. The weight’s going to fall off you really quickly.’
‘I’m no spring chicken though, am I?’ said Edward. ‘But I lost half a stone and I wasn’t even hungry.’
‘Pig,’ muttered Kathy, before giving him a shy smile.
‘I joined a gym and I didn’t touch any alcohol either,’ said Edward, still grinning. ‘And I’m not going to this week either.’
He was really pleased with himself. The effort had been worth it.
‘Why don’t you both start afresh tomorrow?’ said Violet. ‘But you’ve got to be honest with what you’re eating. Just between us. Everyone’s in the same boat so if one of us messes up then we’ll rally round, OK?’
Violet didn’t know where all these words of wisdom were coming from but everyone was nodding eagerly with her.
‘You’re going to email me what you eat every day,
OK?’
Everyone was still nodding.
‘And if you cheat, you’re only cheating yourself. Get over this week and move on. And keep busy. Try not to obsess about food.’
So the pact was made and email addresses were exchanged.
After they left, Violet sat down on the sofa and glanced across to Isabella’s book of elegance. There was nothing much on the TV so she flicked through the pages instead.
Rule Number One, she read. Food should be healthy and delicious.
Hmmm. So far, so bad. Her ready meals were OK but nothing to get her tastebuds zinging.
‘Food should be fresh and easily cooked,’ it continued.
Lord knows what Isabella would think about the microwaved, low-fat lasagne she had just eaten.
‘A bride who eats healthily is a bride full of life. But not to an extreme. Look at Sophia Loren. The ageless Italian beauty is quoted as saying, “Everything you see I owe to spaghetti.” Her advice, like her beautiful figure, still holds good today. A simple Mediterranean diet is healthy and will help you lose weight.’
Violet googled Sophia Loren and stared at her photos. There were a lot of black and white photos of her in the 1960s where she had a fabulously curvy body. Slim but with va-va-voom curves.
Her search led on to other gorgeous Italian women. Monica Bellucci again had curves which could stop traffic. Elisabetta Canalis had even ensnared George Clooney with her Italian sex appeal. They all had figures. Trim but curvy with defined waists as well as a decent size chest and hips. Healthy but not Hollywood stick insects. Imagine looking like that on a daily basis?
But hey, hadn’t she just lost ten pounds? Where did it go? Did it just ooze out of the skin? Violet stopped that train of thought before she felt ill.
But now it was possible the loss would slow down to two pounds a week. But that would make her nine stone by the time of the wedding. She snorted. As if she would ever weigh that!
But something had clicked since the humiliation of that wedding. Her healthy-eating plan was working. She was losing weight. She felt a little tingle of happiness deep inside. And hoped it would last.
Chapter Twenty-three
VIOLET WAS STILL feeling smug as she went into work the following day. Ten pounds’ worth of smug, self-satisfied weight loss. But alas, the good feeling didn’t last long.
She was so bored at work that she found her thoughts heading back to food. The hotline stayed quiet and there was nothing to distract her. Nothing to lead her thoughts from the sugar craving. She had to have sugar.
Violet sat up straight in her chair. No, she didn’t. Think fat bride. Think enormous bride. Did she want to feel like that? No! A thousand times no! She had to be strong.
Her phone beeped with a text from Kathy.
‘How many calories in a massive bowl of Coco Pops?’
Violet googled the calorie count before replying, ‘Standard bowl is about three hundred and eighty.’
‘Bloody hell!’ came the reply. ‘And it was full fat milk.’
‘Try changing to semi-skimmed,’ she replied.
Violet’s phone beeped once more but this time the text was from Maggie.
‘Emergency!!! Help!!!’ read the message.
Violet quickly rang the number. ‘What is it?’
‘I’m in the kitchen,’ panted Maggie. ‘Help me. I’ve got a cream eclair in my hand and I’m not afraid to eat it.’
‘Right,’ Violet told her, putting on a stern voice. ‘Keep hold of the eclair and walk towards the kitchen bin. Open it and then drop the eclair in there. Now close the lid.’
‘OK,’ said Maggie. ‘I’ve done that.’
‘Good. Better now?’
‘Yes. Thanks. It’s silly, I know. I can do this.’
‘Yes, you can,’ Violet told her.
Maggie rung off. Violet stared at the phone for a while before calling Maggie again. This time she took a while longer to answer.
‘Hello?’ came the muffled voice.
‘You got the eclair out of the bin, didn’t you?’
Maggie choked on her eclair in shock. ‘How did you know?’
‘Because we’ve all done it. Have you eaten it all?’
‘I swear to God, I was only on the first bite when you rang.’
‘OK. Drop it in the bin again. Now go to the sink and get the washing up liquid. Take it over to the bin and cover the eclair in the liquid. All over. No spot untouched.’
‘Done it,’ said Maggie. ‘God, I’m useless. I only lasted through breakfast.’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Violet told her. ‘Why don’t you keep yourself busy? Is there anything you can do to take your mind off food?’
‘I was going to clean the kitchen.’
‘I think you should stay away from the kitchen.’
Violet put down the phone and looked up to find Mark standing over her.
‘That sounded very perverse,’ he said, breaking into a smile. Instantly his face lit up and she remembered how attractive he could be when he wasn’t frowning.
She blushed. ‘It was one of my diet group.’
‘Washing-up liquid? What a waste of a good eclair.’
And off he went. He was right, too. But then Mark had probably never been big in his life. Violet had overheard him mention going to the gym on a couple of occasions so perhaps that was why his body was strong but slim. He was also six feet tall so could probably carry a few extra pounds without worrying about it.
Violet looked at the time. Three more minutes had dragged by.
She glanced around at everyone else. Everyone was busy and concentrating. They weren’t eating rubbish because they were occupied. They didn’t have time to eat. She had all the time in the world. Violet began to get twitchy.
The hotline stayed silent. She glanced at Mark’s office door. It was open and she could hear him shouting down the phone at someone. She heard the slam of the phone. And then all was quiet apart from the tapping of keyboards.
Violet looked around her desk. There wasn’t even anything to read. There were no distractions.
Come and buy me, beckoned the Mars bar in the vending machine.
She made up her mind. She stood up. Then she sat back down again. She could do this. She could be strong.
Then she stood up once more and headed towards the corridor and chocolate. But her feet swerved suddenly and Violet found herself at Mark’s office door.
She was just about to back away quietly when he appeared in the doorway and made her jump.
So did Mark. He barked out some incomprehensible word in shock.
‘You nearly gave me heart failure, lurking like that,’ he told her.
Violet cleared her throat. ‘Erm, it’s just I was thinking …’
Her voice trailed off, along with her courage.
‘Well, that’s very interesting,’ Mark replied with a smirk. ‘Now if only we could get our customers on to advanced thinking then one day they might even achieve common sense.’
His glib tone and lack of chocolate made her snap.
‘Look, you’ve got to give me something to do! I’m dying out here!’ she told him. ‘No wonder everyone leaves the job. It’s so bloody boring. And if I stay bored, I’m going to eat and I am not going to end up a fat, lardy bride. No bloody way! You pay me to work here, so give me something to do! I’m not a thick person. I have a brain. Let me use it! I can’t be a fat bride! I won’t! I just won’t!’
Violet finally shut up, the embarrassment coursing through her cheeks. Dear Lord, what was the matter with her? Mark was staring at her as if she were some kind of psychopath.
Perhaps it was the lack of sugar in her bloodstream. Maybe she’d gone into withdrawal mode. Her eyes certainly felt a bit bulgy. Perhaps that’s why Mark stared at her for a while longer before brushing past. He was probably going to get security to have her thrown out of the building. Violet hung her head in shame.
But instead Mark walked up to Anthony. ‘Have you got a spare lapto
p you can give to Violet to use? Set up just like our customers have it?’
Anthony nodded and went into his stock room. He came out and handed a laptop to Mark.
‘Here,’ said Mark, placing the computer in her hands. ‘Use this. Learn about the systems. Get yourself taught. Knock yourself out.’
He walked back to his office door but stopped and turned around. ‘And eat a cake or something. Steal one if you have to.’
His eyes twinkled as he gave Violet a knowing grin before disappearing out of sight.
Her cheeks still throbbing, Violet scuttled back to her desk and switched on the laptop. Anthony gave her a list of passwords and she spent the rest of the afternoon nosing around the software.
It wasn’t until she was driving home that Violet realised she hadn’t eaten a thing all afternoon.
She was feeling smug until she played the answerphone message on the home number.
‘Violet? It’s Miriam.’ As always, the sound of Sebastian’s mother’s voice made her shudder involuntarily. ‘How are you getting along with your search for a wedding dress? I only ask because my sister has kindly given me her daughter’s dress. Never been used. And I think she’s the same size as you. No point wasting money, is there? I’ll pass it to Sebastian and see what you think.’
Violet let her stomach rumble. She might never eat anything again. She had put off the whole dress thing for so long. But with six months to go, it was time to get organised.
She spent the evening looking through bridal magazines. But the models were all so thin, so elegant. So not how Violet felt. Everything was strapless, with a lot of skin on show. She felt terrified about having to expose that much of her body. Where were the dresses that went from the neck all the way down to the ground? With added boning and built-in magic pants?
Violet had seen a large and swanky-looking bridal shop in the centre of town. So the following lunchtime, she went along and stared in at the window. The mannequins were dressed in swathes of ivory taffeta and big flounces. It wasn’t the style of wedding dress she had considered for herself but she had to start somewhere.
Violet took a deep breath and went in.
The sales assistant sitting behind a desk looked up from her notepad. ‘Yes? Can I help you?’
Violet could feel the beads of nervous perspiration forming on her forehead and under her arms.
The Desperate Bride’s Diet Club Page 14