by Becci Fox
‘What is it?’ Gemma said, swaying towards me.
‘I’ve had enough. Can I have your keys so I can go back to yours?’ I said sternly.
‘You’re going?’
‘Yeah, I’m bored. Everything’s different and this club is stupid.’
‘Where’s Brooke?’
‘Still here. I’ll text her to say I’m off and that she has to come home with you.’
She gave me the keys, shrugged and got back to it. I felt like I was in a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. It took me so long to get past all the try-hards and down the stairs that by the time I got outside, I’d completely lost my rag. I got a taxi easily since it wasn’t even midnight and headed for Epping. Meanwhile, I’d got a text back from Brooke saying, ‘I’ve pulled. Not coming back to Gems.’ What could I do except text Gem that she had to make her own way home. I was beyond caring at this point. Especially when I got back to Gem’s to find a drunk Grant slumped on the doorstep. I kicked him with my foot and he stirred slightly.
‘Grant, you bell-end.Wake up.’
‘Gem?’
‘Nah, it’s Becci.’
‘I need Gemma. Talk to her for me.’
‘You have seriously messed up this time. You couldn’t even stay faithful four months before your wedding?’
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Hun, do I look like I give a tom-tit?’ I can be well harsh sometimes. But I didn’t have the heart to tell him where and what Gemma was up to. I opened the door and let him in. It was his home after all. Then he just collapsed on the couch and I left him there. Turned him on his side, though, in case he choked on his own vomit. Whatever he’d done, he didn’t deserve that.
The next day was well bizarre. Grant wanted to know where Gemma was. I just said he’d have to ask her, but I could see he had figured it out. To be honest, she probably wanted him to know she’d cheated on him because you just want to dish back the pain and make it a level playing field again. I had to get him out the house and back to Charlie’s so Gem wouldn’t know I’d let him in. It was like being on the Jerry Springer show, having to hide one cheating partner from another cheating partner because it would be explosive when they clapped eyes on each other. My thought of the day would be: don’t propose to someone if you can’t stop chasing skirt because you’re clearly not ready.
Grant told me he’d done nothing with this mentalist girl except snog her down Funky Mojoe’s. I didn’t buy it, for her to have decked him one, that was the rage of a lover. Trust him to get it on with a skank down the ghetto bar too. If you’re looking for somewhere to get stabbed in West Essex, this is your place. He claimed he’d done it because he gets so jealous of Gemma. I don’t get that warped logic, but what do I know about their relationship? Personally, I blame the football team mentality. Grant plays for a Sunday League team much like Mark Wright plays for Essex United. I don’t doubt for one second that Grant is completely in love with Gemma, but when those boys are out together, they suddenly act like they’re all single.
Anyway, I decided BHQ had dished out enough shit on Grant because his cheating had gained him a total bunny-boiler with a good right hook. Once I’d got rid of Grant I drove straight over to Ben’s. There’s nothing like submerging yourself in another person to dissolve all other dramas. I didn’t even bother looking in on Brooke.
*
I made sure I alternated my time between Gemma and Ben in those following weeks. She had basically told Grant to move out, but she hadn’t called off the wedding, so we were in a bit of a limbo. I’d already booked the hen do in Puerto Banus, but I didn’t bother to cancel it because, wedding or no wedding, we all needed a weekend of drinking and sunbathing.
Normally Gemma would be riddled with guilt about sleeping with another bloke, but there was none of that. Instead she was saying things like, ‘I’ve lost a part of myself being with Grant,’ and ‘I’m too young to settle down.’ I’d never seen her have a crisis like this. She was convinced she’d stopped making an effort with herself, but as I pointed out, she wouldn’t be getting into VIP with us if that was the case. However, West Essex is the worst place to be if you’re feeling underdressed, so even though I didn’t agree with her, I knew where she was coming from. We’d always been really sure of ourselves, but these were confusing times.
I wasn’t about to let us lose our way with all these stupid shenanigans, so I booked me and Gem in for massages and facials at Harmony. When you feel someone’s looking after you, you feel instantly better. A lot of people don’t stop to think about this and get weighed down by all the shit BHQ throw at them, but they can’t touch you in a beauty salon. That’s the place you build yourself up again.
I knew Ryan would make me feel guilty for chilling out in Harmony as it’s a stone’s throw from the gym, so I got him a couple of treatments too to stop him hassling me. You know what they say – keep your friends close and your fitness instructor closer. Although he still had the cheek to whine that the massages weren’t as good since Amy Childs had left. In fact, a lot of the male clients have said that. It was so funny when TOWIE kicked off cos everyone went mental trying to find Amy’s salon, which didn’t even exist back then. I remember they once shot Amy giving a spray-tan at Belles & Beaus and the phone was off the hook with people trying to book a session with her. The salon got some very nice business out of it. I mean, they still love Amy at Harmony and she’s there all the time getting treatments, but they must be wanting a piece of the action. Although the salon owner’s daughter, Jade, is now employed as Amy’s personal stylist. She used to have a hundred people following her on Twitter, but once Amy announced who her stylist was, Jade gained fifteen hundred new fans within twenty-four hours. So it all worked out in the end, right? And Amy’s got her salon in Brentwood so we can all breathe easy now.
Before our treatments, we decided to go sit in the saunas so our bodies and pores were all loosened up. Only amateurs don’t warm up their skin before a treatment. So anyways, we were all lying down and chilling when my phone went. I wasn’t going to go in there without my iPhone, was I? To be honest, I don’t normally do that, but I’d had a text from Ben saying he was going to call me with an exciting proposition. You wouldn’t leave your phone in the changing rooms if you had that hanging over you, would you?
‘Babe, what you doing the last weekend in May?’ he said. He was sounding laid-back as usual, so I had to calm the keenness in my voice too.
‘Err, not sure. Is that the bank holiday weekend?’
‘Probably. You fancy coming to Monaco?’
‘Where’s that?’
‘France, I think. Doesn’t matter. It’s not like you’re going sightseeing. Grand Prix’s on and I need a partner in crime who likes a good time.’
‘Oh yeah, who you thinking of taking?’ I teased.
‘You, you plum. So what d’ya say, babe? You, me and some fast cars?’
‘Oh my God, yes!’ I said with so much keenness it’s like he’d asked me to marry him.
‘And there will be back-to-back parties, so bring your sexiest clothes, yeah? And lots of bikinis. This is a big fucking deal. It’s the sweetest circuit there is and they know how to party.’
‘I can’t believe this. Will there be celebrities there? I mean proper ones, like Americans.’
‘Always, babe.’
I hung up and screamed. A little tear of joy ran down my cheek.
‘What’s going on? What’s wrong?’ Ryan asked, looking all dramatic like a giant palaver was about to kick off.
‘I’m going to the biggest party in the world,’ I said, jumping, laughing and crying. ‘I’m going to the Monaco Grand Prix.’
Ryan gasped, grabbed me and jumped up and down with me. It was a real moment. I think he was convinced that I wouldn’t have got this far in the relationship process if it weren’t for his torture sessions. Although when I was jumping nothing jiggled, so I suppose his work was done.
‘Becs, I’m so glad everything’s working
out for you. You totally deserve it, hun,’ said Gemma, still sitting down. I knew she was genuinely happy for me, but she was running at twenty per cent capacity at this point. I sat down and hugged her, knowing that I would make it my mission to get my girl back to a hundred per cent.
‘I feel a bit light-headed,’ I said, suddenly letting her go. ‘I’ve just got to lie down for a minute.’ So we lay there a bit longer chilling and Ryan and me chatted excitedly. Gemma was silent for five minutes before speaking again.
‘Becs?’
‘Yeah, hun?
‘Can I tell you something?’ she asked.
‘You know you can tell me anything,’ I replied.
‘Yeah, but you might not like what I’m about to tell you.’
I braced myself.
‘Oh God, what is it? Don’t tell me, you’ve been looking at my boobs, haven’t you? I totally know the left one’s lower than the right one, though. I’ve been thinking about getting them done again, so don’t worry. I’m totally aware.’
‘No, it’s about Brooke.’
‘Oh? What? Has she been hating on me?’
‘I think you should hear this from a friend before you see it for yourself. Plus Brooke’s too scared to tell you.’
‘Get it out, girl. What’s happening? She’s not nicked Ben off me, has she?’ I laughed nervously.
‘No, but she’s nicked Charlie off you.’ There was a pause and then she added, ‘It’s been going on for three weeks now.’
I lay there and thought about this. I knew I had no right to act angry cos they were both single. But I did not see that coming.
‘Good for her,’ I said eventually.
‘Really?’ said Gemma, sounding confused.
‘Yeah, definitely. I mean, I split from Charlie two years ago. I’ve only ever wanted both of them to be happy and find love. I mean, it’s weird, but you can’t control who you fall for, right?’
‘You’re taking this really well, Becs. I’m so impressed with you, hun. It just shows how much you’ve grown up. If I’d told you this a year ago, you’d been spitting feathers. Maybe Ben’s been a good influence on you after all.’
‘Yeah, well we’ve all got to move on, haven’t we? I know I have.’ I had to sit up but immediately felt all dizzy again.
‘Where’s my phone gone?’ I said, patting the seats around me.
‘I can’t see a thing in here,’ said Ryan. ‘I didn’t think it possible but I’ve sweated out every drop of badness in my system. Let’s go and get robed up for some beautifying, shall we?’
‘No, but my phone,’ I said, my voice getting higher. I stood up even though I was starting to feel sick and reached for the light switch hanging from the ceiling so I could see better. Turned out to be the emergency cord though, didn’t it. Suddenly everyone was rushing in and trying to help me out. I spotted my phone, grabbed it, then shook off the do-gooders and just walked out in my bikini with my head held high. The other two followed, all apologetic, even though I tell them never say you’re sorry and never admit you’re wrong. I shrugged my shoulders to acknowledge the incident but to also say shit happens, yeah?
Although karma got me in the end, because my phone then stopped working. When I took it to get it repaired, the bloke said it was water damaged. I couldn’t remember it even being near water. I was without a phone for three days!
Ryan said I’d really humiliated him in front of his colleagues that day. Well harsh. I told him to shut up, relax and enjoy his massage. I wish I’d taken my own advice because I was all stiff during mine. The massage lady said I must have a lot of worries on my shoulders. She was one hundred per cent right. I mean, that sauna incident just showed how out of it I was. The Grand Prix, the Brooke and Charlie news . . . it’s a bit much getting all this breaking news while you’re sweating it up in a hot box.
I had one week to get ready for Monaco! And if that wasn’t bad enough, Tasha had gone on holiday with the family so I had to look after the whole shop by myself. All Saturdays from May onwards are manic as the wedding season’s in full swing, so I was having to deal with all these brides whingeing during their final fittings. These women didn’t know the meaning of pressure. I didn’t have one single outfit to wear for the Grand Prix. I would usually call on Brooke at times like this, but I felt things were too weird. I didn’t say it, but I did think it was bang out of order for my mate to get it on with my ex. Anyway, I decided Gemma needed a project to liven her up, so I got her on board Project Monaco.
I was exfoliating every other day and oiling myself up like you wouldn’t believe. I brought out the big guns and drenched myself in Clarins body oils. I’m surprised I didn’t slide out of bed with the amount I was slapping on each night. Then a make-up mate of Gemma’s did my lash extensions for practically nothing. I went up one level too so they were that bit longer. I got my Bio Gels redone even though my last mani/pedi was only four days old. I couldn’t take any risks. I got my Queens Road salon to whack in some hair extensions. Thank God I’d got my roots done recently or how would I have found the time?
On the eve of my flight I got a dark spray, then Gemma and I sped over to Bluewater to sort out my Riviera wardrobe. You probably think all Essex girls go to Lakeside. Don’t get me wrong, before Bluewater existed I was all over Lakeside like it was the promised land. This is how obsessed I was when I was a teenager: one Saturday, Mum yelled up to me, ‘We’re going Lakeside,’ and I was like, shit, they’re going without me, so I got myself ready in record time. When I got downstairs, Mum was crying. What she’d actually shouted up to me was, ‘Your Grandad’s died.’ And even though I was sad about Grandad, my heart sank when I realized there’d be no shopping that day. From then on, I was adamant I’d take driving lessons the moment I turned seventeen. The creation of Bluewater was just the icing on the cake. All a girl needs is the freedom to travel and explore new worlds.
I think shopping under pressure is more satisfying. What would you rather be: all chilled with one bag after four hours of shopping or all manic with ten bags after one hour of shopping? So for starters, I got myself a new Gossard bra. If you haven’t had a boob job, this bra will make you look like you have. If you have had a boob job, this bra will push your tits up to your ears. Even the blind will see you coming.
I was going for three nights, so I bought six outfits from Reiss and Zara – that’s not just for night, that’s day dresses too and one jumpsuit. I don’t really do high-street accessories, so I restrained myself from getting shoes in Aldo. Then I got a new pair of aviators and a new suitcase because I needed one that screamed Monaco, so I found this huge pink one. I was anxious that it was too small, but Gemma gave me a right talking-to and said it would be fine once I’d put all my make-up and hair stuff in a separate vanity case. God love that girl, she was spot on.
I bought one bikini from Ann Summers that I didn’t really like, just for back-up, in case the other seven I was taking didn’t work in Monaco. I was that close to buying a monokini so I’d be bang on trend, but thank God I didn’t. They’re well unflattering. Even Amy Childs and Maria Fowler bulged out their cut-outs. The monokini must have been invented by a proper woman hater. I’m bikinis all the way and I bought some stunning ones in Vardo when it opened. That’s the boutique Chantelle from Big Brother opened on Queens Road. The launch day was hilarious. She arrived in a horse-drawn carriage and there was a red carpet into her shop and she had a right face on her. I got more to say about her later as I got up close and personal with her that summer. Anyway, considering that Lucy from TOWIE had been brought in to select which lines to stock, there was not a lot of choice in Vardo. I’ll be honest, I was bored by it, but it does have a good underwear and bikini section, so I went wild.
While we’re on boutiques, I do think that Sam and Billie’s shop Minnies is gorgeous. Here’s the difference – those girls have some serious style. When they had the real launch (not the fake telly one), the queue of girls went on for miles, and the clothes they’re pictured out i
n always sell out in seconds. It’s a pretty smart idea to set up shop when you can advertise the clothes in the papers for free. I think my style’s really similar to Sam’s, so that’s probably why I lap up all her outfits.
I had to catch a flight to France on Friday morning from Stansted, then the plan was to be meet Ben at a bar in Nice airport. He’d been at the Grand Prix in Spain the weekend before so he’d extended his stay to make it a week-long holiday. Alright for some. He didn’t go to all the Grands Prix as that would just get ridiculous, but he did pretty much do all the European ones. So while I’d been running around like a mad woman, he’d been chilling by a pool. I mean, I’d only just managed to fit in that spray-tan the day before, which killed me. I could still smell it! I’d also let myself down at the bureau de change when I’d asked for francs. The man gave me such a look of pity. Alright, alright, I hadn’t been there since the school’s French exchange. Why would I keep track of their currency situation?
Dad had offered to drive me to the airport, but when he does this he always pretends he’s a taxi driver. He’s got an E-type Jag, for fuck’s sake. He’ll say things like, ‘Where you going on your holibobs, darling,’ or ‘I had that Jackie Fox in my cab the other day. Went without paying.’ He even dished out a new dad-gag when he saw me in my mirrored aviators which went, ‘Nice sunnies, love. I can really see myself in those.’ It was all so painful at 8 a.m., but that’s the price you pay for door-to-door service.
‘How you getting from Nice to Monaco then?’ asked Dad, driving well up the rear of the car in front. I really don’t think he’s a good enough driver to own a classic car.
‘I’ve got no idea. I was just leaving that to Ben,’ I replied.
‘You don’t want to be relying on a bloke to get you places, love.’
‘Well it’s done me alright so far since I’m the one off to Monaco and you’re not.’
‘Yeah, yeah, rub it in. Before you came along, he was meant to be taking me to the Grand Prix.’