by Becci Fox
‘Hun, I’m going to chop his balls off,’ said Brooke loud enough for every table to hear.
‘He’d have to grow a pair first,’ added Ryan. The pair of them cackled and Brooke planted a kiss on his cheek.
‘Well, I’ve got lots of other options. Like I’m going to go around Repton Park and knock on everyone’s doors and tell them about the orgies and drugs that are going on in his place. We’ll get him evicted like we did Jack Tweed.’
I love it when Brooke talks mean.
‘I’m so relieved you’re here,’ I said, so genuinely. We looked at each other and just acknowledged we were alright with each other.
‘Do I get a glass of rosé or what?’ said Brooke, ending the moment. She doesn’t really do heart-to-hearts.
When I got home, Mum came running out. ‘Ben’s been over,’ she said, all flustered.
‘What you talking about?’
‘He dropped your suitcase over and some flowers,’ she said, looking expectantly at me as if I was going to break out into a smile.
I ran into the house and saw it all there in the hallway. I picked up the flowers with my suitcase, which I dragged over the gravel to my front door. I then placed the flowers in the middle of the drive and stamped the shit out of them. Mum looked at me like I’d finally lost it. All she could say was, ‘Umm, I’m going to revamp the hall. Do you want to help with colour schemes?’
‘No, I’m busy,’ I said, slamming my front door.
I felt bad, though, because she was only trying to help, and normally I love her yearly hall redecoration. Not many mums have the vision to transform their entrance that regularly, but that’s Jackie for you. I’d had loads of Monaco-themed interior ideas while I’d been out there, but all my creativity had been zapped. Although, the chaise longue I’d put in Tasha’s shop was just begging to be in Mum’s hallway, so I texted her.
After that, it was shutters down in the cottage again with a very frustrated Marilyn.
Birthdays are a big deal round our way, whatever age you’re hitting. Me and the girls call it ‘Show Pony Time’ because we will go above and beyond when it comes to making ourselves stand out at birthdays. Everyone’s made the effort to turn out for you, so the least you can do is make the ultimate effort and give them something amazing to look at.
Sadly for me, my twenty-seventh birthday occurred in June. It was no big shock as it’s always then, but I had to get my Show Pony on two weeks after Monaco. I normally embrace getting older and wiser, but when you’ve just been treated like a whore by the guy you thought was your boyfriend, the future looks bleak. Gemma and Brooke were having none of it, though. As is birthday tradition, Faces nightclub was the destination.
We’ve been going down there since we were fifteen. Technically that’s underage, but if you’re a girl with a good set of boobs, a tight dress and a fake ID, then anything’s possible in Essex clubworld. I mean, I wouldn’t know how easy it is to get in illegally these days, but with free entry for girls before 10 p.m, it’s fair to say we’re enticed. Last time we’d been down there, Mark Wright had shown up and women were literally throwing themselves at him and his car. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d got home to find a blonde stuck to the bonnet. I hadn’t seen anything like it in all my days.
So Gemma, bless her, had reserved a table at Faces for this champagne party. We’re all members so we’d have got this anyway, but Gem’s step-brother used his contacts to get us in the VIP pod. The thing is, they say the roped off ‘booths’ are VIP, but they’re so not. It’s all about the Pod, aka the Cage, as featured in the TOWIE trailer for series two. This white birdcage is situated in the middle of the club, and you have to go up on the small stage to get to it. It’s one of the hardest VIP areas to slip into since the narrow entrance is taken up by the hulking body of one doorman. It’s good for the celebs as they’re nicely cossetted in there, and if they’re performing, they just slip from Cage to stage and do their thing without getting near the public. All I’ve ever wanted is to book the Cage, and now Gemma had gone ahead and done it for me. I couldn’t really let her down, so I reluctantly dragged myself in for a much needed sunbed and spray down Beaus & Belles. I was so embarrassed by my whiteness, but the girls gave me major pity when I told them how I’d been messed about. I got the usual WEG response: ‘Fucking arsehole. You can do better than a cheating shit like that, babe.’ Thing is, he hadn’t really cheated, had he?
Then I got my gels done and had a major slag-off about girls from TOWIE. They had nothing good to say about Lauren Goodger: ‘She used to come in here until we started charging her. I mean, who does she think she is? I don’t like the girl. She thinks she’s stunning, but she’s really not.’ Maria Fowler on the other hand – they’re all over her. Since she went out with the manager of Nu Bar, people can’t get enough of the ‘extra’ round here. Probably because Maria has to work a bit harder for it and almost got chucked out of it after all those escort stories emerged. So she’s keeping it real, whereas Lauren thinks she owns the show. Well delusional.
I felt a bit more like myself after my MOT and I felt empowered to give something back to the world, so I took Marilyn down the doggy spa. He needed all my salty tears washed out of his coat and his chest-beard reshaped. Luckily Marilyn’s pretty cheap to run, but if you’ve got a Russian Black Terrier, you’re looking at twice the price. I got him the full grooming works with salon treatments, which included a bubble bath, a fresh facial scrub, a nail and paw treatment, an intense conditioning treatment for his coat and a spritz of aromatherapy cologne to help him chill out. While I was there, I got his stinky breath sorted and his nails painted silver. He looked stunning. His proud fluffy face proper lifted me. I hadn’t thought about Ben once that morning. Don’t I always say it, treating yourself and others is essential for your mental well-being. I don’t get why women would feel guilty for looking after themselves when it’s really for the benefit of everyone?
I’d eagerly promised Tasha I’d look after the shop that afternoon as I wanted to keep busy, but it was so bleeding quiet that I just sat staring into space going over everything. It was doing my head right in because I hadn’t had the chance to have it out with Ben. My main fear in all this was that I’d become as naïve as Cheryl and Sue. I honestly have amazing instincts when it comes to players, and sometimes I’m on the same page as them. I always know what I’m getting myself into and I thought I had been guarded that first time Ben got his ‘man’ to acquire me in One9Five, but I’d never been chased/stalked to that extent before and then we’d got so intimate. I didn’t mention he’d got me a matching gold Cartier watch, did I? I thought I was well in there, but I was just being groomed for his sick agenda. It’s that age-old mistake women make, though, isn’t it? I thought going out with me was changing him and that I’d bagged myself a well nice lifestyle too.
I’ll let you into a secret and this is true. There’s this really small window of opportunity where a player decides he wants to get married, and whoever he’s going out with at the time, that’s the chosen woman. It’s pure chance. I thought that woman was me, if I’m totally honest. You live and learn, right? The only bonus from all this was I’d lost half a stone, so I was looking skinny as you like. Who needs to Shit Yourself Thin when you’ve got heartache and humiliation? I was totally going to make the most of my new flat stomach at Faces. It was Show Pony Time.
Since we weren’t getting ready together, I had to put the calls in to see what everyone else was wearing. Or more like, I told them I was wearing black and suggested we’d all look the business if they did too. You cannot go wrong with a Forever Unique dress. It set me back £360, but it’s only your birthday once a year and I’d worked hard enough for it. It was black, clingy and ruched with these stunning silver-jewelled and beaded shoulders. Normally I’m not a big fan of my bum, but the dress held the curves in all the right places and the draped neckline made my boobs look like they were on an escape mission. I felt amazing and ready to make my entrance.
‘Oh my God, you guys!’ I said, struggling over the gravel in my Jimmy Choos. ‘How the fuck did you keep all this secret from me?’
‘It was the most difficult thing I’ve had to hold in for twenty-four hours,’ said Gemma, ‘but since we’re not doing the limo for my hen do, then we might as well do it now.’
Ryan thrust a cold glass of fizz in my hand and Gemma yelled, ‘Here’s to us lucky bitches . . . still got it,’ as we raised our glasses. We looked the nuts, all dressed in black like we were going to a movie premiere.
‘Thanks for making my birthday proper special,’ I said, welling up a bit. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time eating Haribo under a blanket with Marilyn, so thank you for getting me out. I love you all.’
‘If you don’t pull tonight, you will have let us down though, yeah?’ said Ryan.
‘We are looking so fly tonight, I don’t see how I couldn’t,’ I said, trying to convince myself.
‘C’mon Show Pony, trot on into your limo, yeah?’ said Ryan, slapping my butt as I did so. I always say Ryan puts on this big gay act so he can slap our bums and grab our boobs without us pressing charges. It would be a totally Essex-man thing to do.
The ride to Gants Hill was twenty minutes of hysteria. We gave up on the glasses cos they kept spilling everywhere, so we just swigged out of the bottle and sang Lady Gaga at the top of our voices. A bit of ‘Bad Romance’ seemed so fitting. Ryan kept wanting us to stick our heads out the window, but he didn’t really get how long we’d spent on our hair. Alright for him – he puts so much gel in his hair, it’s like lead.
I still get the adrenalin rush when I walk down the black hall and open those double doors to Faces. Or ‘Faeces’ as it’s known by those too intimidated to return. You never forget your first club experience, and it blew my tiny mind back in the day. I’d never seen anything like it: the energy, the clothes, the stares. I loved it before it even got the makeover. As we made our way to the Cage, I squealed at the sight of those zebra-print sofas and champagne laid out for us on the glossy monochrome tables. It was a step up from the days of drinking WKD with a straw to get off my face faster. Now I drink Bollinger with a straw.
With my eye on the prize, I made my way up before a huge arm landed in front of me.
‘Can’t go in there. Private party,’ said the bouncer.
‘Uh, yer, I know. It’s my party.’
‘No it ain’t.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘A celebrity’s hired this out and it ain’t you.’
The bouncers in Faces are well off. We all started screeching and then Gem came skidding over.
‘Shit, we’ve been shoved,’ she said. ‘I only got this on the condition someone more important didn’t hire it and they have. So we’ve got a VIP booth now.’
‘That’s bang out of order,’ I said. ‘Why can’t we share?’
‘Don’t matter, they’ve just given me another bottle of champagne on the house,’ said Gem. ‘Honest, my step-brother’s known the manager for years and he’s alright.’
As Gem dragged me off, I turned to the bouncer and went, ‘I’ll be back.’ He looked nonplussed. I like a mission on a night out and I was getting back in that Cage.
I actually don’t know why celebrities come to Faces. Fine if they’re being paid to do a personal appearance, but if they come of their own free will, they always get grief. Or dish out grief. And it’s always the footballers. Anton Ferdinand got done for punching someone outside who was supposedly mugging him for his watch, Ashley Cole did get mugged for his watch, Manuel da Costa got fined for slapping a woman, most of the Spurs team got kicked out of here after winning some cup. I could go on. And celebrities get verbally abused by drunk clubbers, especially that Danielle Lloyd, but the TOWIE lot mostly seem to get respect and awe. Although the beating Sam Faiers got from that girl gang in Chigwell was a bit of a wake-up call. Sam blamed it on ‘jealousy’, but if you ask me it was the ultimate happy-slap. Imagine those rough-arse girls seeing the result of their nasty work on TOWIE? I’m glad they didn’t make it a proper storyline, as that’s what the perpetrators wanted. Amy Childs went and got herself some security after that and I hope the other girls follow.
Anyways, what I’m saying is celebrities need to be on their guard when they go to clubs in Essex because the locals can sometimes turn. There’s something about Faces that makes tensions run particularly high. That’s why it’s such a legendary institution: it looks classy and sexy on the outside, but it’s pure filth and drama deep down. That is West Essex.
If they’ve not got a champagne night on in Faces, then it’s a themed night because we bloody love dressing up around here. So there’s the Marbs, Ibiza and Zante Send-off Party, the Beach Party (sexy swimwear gets you in for free), the Essex Models Party (girls told to look their best for model spotters), or my personal favourite, the PJ party where the girls come dressed in silk camis and suspenders while the blokes just wear their normal clothes and flex their muscles. I would say the overall theme for clubbers, mainly girls, is wearing as little clothing as possible.
I don’t see why Faces should be called a meat-market if you’ve got all these stunning women and all these gawping men. I mean, the blokes have to work hard to get our attention, and we’re just knocking them right back if they don’t have what it takes. The cows can’t do that in an actual meat-market can they? So the bottom line is, the ladies got the power and the ladies get in for free. What’s not to like?
Did I mention the podiums? Brooke’s actually taken pole-dancing classes, and she’s proper amazing. I ordered her to give me a personal show and she did not disappoint. She climbed onto that podium, grabbed the pole with the confidence of a pro and started flicking her black hair while her body was spinning and her legs were swinging. Within one minute, she’d built up a serious audience of admirers, probably hoping she’d flash her vajazzle. She made me try it once, but I just ended up getting pole burns between my thighs. I think I went too fast down it.
I spotted my brother walking in with all his mates, so I waved him over.
‘Happy birthday, babe,’ he said.
‘Thanks, hun. Where’s my present?’
‘Alright, alright, calm the passion. It’s on its way.’
‘You say that every year,’ I said.
‘Whatevs. You want a drink?’
‘Yeah, always. First off, talk me through your mates.’
‘You know Dave and Jon.’ I did. I wasn’t impressed. ‘And this is Jamie.’ Proper fit.
‘Alright, James,’ I said, winking at him for some reason. But it’s OK, he wasn’t put off.
‘May I say you’re looking very gorgeous tonight,’ replied Jamie. ‘If I’d known you were his sister, I’d have been round his gaff much sooner.’
‘I’ve actually got my own place next door. You should come check it out.’
‘Oi, oi, oi, stop flirting with my mate,’ Jake butted in.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Where’s this drink you promised me?’ Jake went off, dissing me with all his mates in tow. Charming. Ryan immediately sidled up to me.
‘I totally thought that was Ryan Gosling, but then I was like, what’s he doing in Faces?’ he babbled. ‘Like there’s room for two Ryans here. I gotta say, I like a man with a strong chin. And those sexy eyes are nice, yeah? Why’s Jake not shown us him before?’
‘Oh my God, are we attracted to the same man for once?’
‘Yeah, I think two can play that game. We found our first love slave,’ he said, still checking Jamie out as he walked to the bar. ‘I tell you what, though. I’m going to totally let you have him all to yourself just because you need a good seeing-to,’ said Ryan, cupping my face.
‘Awwww, that’s so sweet of you, babe.�
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‘You’re welcome. And I’ll do your brother, yeah?’ said Ryan as he kissed me on the lips. I’ve told him not to do that. What if people think he’s my boyfriend and they’re all put off? He’s always trying to hold my hand in bars and clubs too. Nightmare.
By 11 p.m. it was heaving in there, and while I’d taken my eye off the Cage with all the drinking and dancing I’d been doing, it was now suddenly occupied. I went over to take a closer look and clocked the VIP thief. A bloody footballer. Do they not know any other clubs round here? It was so empty in there too! I grabbed Gemma and Brooke and left the boys to guard our drinks. The bouncer sensed danger, but there was nothing he could do to stop us. I was already waving really vigorously so my boobs jiggled in the footballer’s direction. His eyes were practically on stalks. Our entrance was secured.
He came over and went, ‘Alright, love?’
‘Yeah, yeah, fine, thanks,’ I said, looking up at him. ‘I just wanted to say that we got kicked out of here earlier because you’d booked it. But the thing is it’s my birthday, so it’s been a bit shit.’
‘You’re joking? Well you girls have got to get yourselves back in here then,’ he said, and then he turned to the bouncer and went, ‘It’s alright, they’re with me.’ As we walked in, I shouted to the heavy, ‘Unlucky, hun.’ He just shook his head in despair.
Once we had access to the Cage, we got everyone else in too. Got to stagger it or people get suspicious. There was one close miss when a mate of the footballer’s stood on Jake’s foot and they started squaring up to each other. If something like that happens, Jake never wants a fight, he simply wants the other bloke to apologize. He’s got such high standards when it comes to manners and respect. So they stand there for a while with their faces inches away from each other, and Gem’s squawking about us getting kicked out. And then suddenly they’re shaking hands and giving each other a big old man-hug.