Stilettos & Stubble

by Amanda Egan

  As I passed my bag on the hall table my mobile signalled a voice message. I took it through to the kitchen with me and listened as I waited for the kettle to boil.

  I was met with a rather drunken slur and much umming and aahing.

  ‘Hi Percy. It’s me … Tom. I noticed you’d try to call me yesterday. Sorry I missed you. Hey …listen … I’ve been thinking …we’re both single .. erm … we like one another. Don’t we? Why don’t we … well, you know? Go on a date. What d’ya say? Could be fun! Anyway, have a think about it. I might pop round to see if you’re home yet. See ya.’

  His message ended with a giant hiccup and a nasal snort, followed by what sounded like him falling over.

  Oh, good grief! What on earth was he thinking? He had a perfectly lovely looking girl next door in the shape of Diana but was too blind to see what was already on a plate for him. Yes, I liked him and he liked me but surely he could see that anything more would smack of desperation.

  I tipped a tin of cat meat into the bowl for Bogey and stirred powdered chocolate into my mug.

  ‘What is it with men, Bogey? Why do I seem to attract the oddballs?’

  My oblivious cat totally ignored my plea and continued to snuffle noisily in his bowl. His belly was far more important than my broken heart or unanswerable questions.

  With a sigh that came deep from my soul, I picked up my mug and headed to the sitting room. I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever felt more lonely.

  And yet when I heard urgent banging on my front door, all I really wanted was to be left alone.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Peering through the spy hole on my door and fully expecting to see an alcohol-fuelled Tom, I was surprised to see Betty La Muff. He was devoid of make up, dressed in jeans and a T-shirt and clutching a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers.

  Just what I needed! Not!

  I leaned with my back against the door and felt my shoulders slump. How could I get rid of him without hurting his feelings? The last thing I needed was to be ‘home alone’ with Betty and his wandering hands and then have to face him again at the club after I’d rejected him.

  ‘Hi, Percy. It’s only me. Dave. Betty. But Dave right now. Thought we could have a little drinkie together. Open up.’

  I turned back to the door and found my voice. ‘Oh, hi erm … Dave. It’s not really a good time right now. Bit tired. Maybe another time?’

  I was met with silence and then, ‘Oh. OK then. Don’t suppose I could have a quick slash before I go, could I? Won’t make it home with this bladder on me.’

  Oh charming! And now I was left with no choice but to let him in.

  Reluctantly I unlocked the door and stood back to allow him through. ‘The loo’s just on the left there.’ I gestured to the door and waited in the hallway for his return. The night was rapidly going from bad to worse. The one man I really liked had gone cold on me and two men who I didn’t fancy had decided that I was the woman for them.

  ‘Percy’s Luck’ should be linked to ‘Sod’s Law’ in the dictionary.

  Dave came out of the bathroom with a cheeky grin on his face. Picking up the flowers he’d left on the hall table he handed them to me and said, ‘Just a quick drink, Perce. It would be rude to say no.’

  Refusing him face to face wasn’t quite so easy and I found myself giving in. The night couldn’t possibly get any worse and the thought of going to bed with a head full of revolving thoughts wasn’t exactly inviting.

  ‘Oh, OK, Dave. You win. But just one. And no funny business. I’m not in the mood.’

  ‘Woo hoo! I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist me. Nice jammies by the way. I can see your nipples through them. Very nice indeed!’

  I gave him a look which I hoped was equivalent to a knuckle rap and led him through to the kitchen. It felt safer than the sitting room - no sofas or fluffy rugs to give him the wrong impression.

  Bogey had finished his food and was having a quick wash. He took one look at Dave, belched and left the room.

  ‘Nice place you’ve got here, Percy. Must get lonely by yourself?’

  I poured the wine he’d brought and put the rest in the fridge. ‘Well my dad’s staying with me at the moment. In fact he should be in any time soon.’

  There, that should give him the hint he needed. Drink up and get out.

  Dave smiled. ‘No Perce, I think he’ll be a while. He was at The Glove again tonight and headed out with a couple of the gals. We’ve got the place to ourselves.’

  My father seemed to be spending more and more time at the club and the thought was just ever so slightly worrying. Why did he like hanging around with the queens so much? Was he having some sort of mid-life crisis?

  Dave did a rather unnerving wiggle of his eyebrows, which would have served him well in any ‘Carry On’ film. I imagined his poor, childless wife at home while he was out acting like a single bloke on the pull and, after the disastrous evening I’d had, I suddenly saw red. I’d just about had it with sodding men and Dave was about to get the brunt of it.

  ‘For fuck’s sake, Dave. Just grow up, will you? I am not, nor will I ever be interested in you. Just get that through your bloody thick skull will you?’

  He had the good grace to look just a tad sheepish and for a fleeting moment I felt sorry for him. He was one messed up cookie and, for all his cheek and banter, I doubted if he was truly happy.

  He downed his drink in one and I went to the fridge to get the bottle and top his glass up. I was instantly feeling a bit guilty about my sudden outburst. It wasn’t his fault that I’d had a shit night so why should I be punishing him?

  ‘Sorry.’ I said simply. ‘I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. Forgive me?’

  He looked at me and nodded, a hint of sadness touching his eyes. ‘No, I’m sorry. I know I can be a pain in the arse but … well, I guess I spend my whole life putting on a front and sometimes I just don’t know when to stop.’

  ‘Why do you feel you need to do any of it? The dressing up, the flirting with women? It’s an odd mix isn’t it?’

  Dave rubbed at his eyes and I could still see the faintest touch of mascara. It amazed me that none of the plumbers he worked with by day had ever cottoned on to his alter ego. I could only imagine the ribbing he’d get if they did.

  ‘I’ve started having therapy,’ he said barely audibly. ‘Always thought that sort of stuff was a bit lame but the wife said she’d leave me if I didn’t. I do love her, you know Perce. I’m not really a heartless bastard.’

  ‘Well if you love her that much, why do you go screwing around? Not nice, Dave.’

  ‘That’s just it. I don’t. I’m all bloody talk. If you’d agreed to a shag, I’d probably have shat myself!’ He shook his head and sighed wearily, his eyes closed. ‘I’m a fake through and through. A bloody joke.’

  The man before me had instantly changed - gone was the bravado and the cocky front. He was sad and confused.

  ‘My childhood was a bit of a mess. I guess the therapy’s helped me realise that. My mum left when I was six and my dad just went to pieces. I was more or less brought up by my three older sisters. They used to dress me up in frilly clothes and paint me up to look like a china dolly.’ He laughed. ‘Christ, you should see some of the pictures! Freaky doesn’t even come close.’

  I sat quietly listening to his story and putting the pieces together. The pieces that had made this man what he was.

  ‘I spent most of my teen years wondering if I was gay. Deep down I knew I wasn’t. I mean, I didn’t fancy blokes but I still liked women’s clothes and make up. I was one fucked up kid!’

  His story was all beginning to make sense now and it was really rather grim. I took his hand, suddenly feeling that I could trust him with bodily contact and that all he needed at that point was a friend.

  He continued with his outpouring. ‘When I met Stella I just wanted to settle down and be loved. I never lied to her about the dressing up and it was something she could accept back the
n. It wasn’t until we had trouble starting a family that she started to resent it. It was almost as if she needed something to pin the blame on.’

  ‘Well, I guess that’s kind of logical, isn’t it?’ I asked. ‘She probably figured that pointing the finger at that facet of your personality would hurt a lot less than accusing you directly.’

  ‘But that’s just it. It’s not me who’s got the problem. It’s her. Anyone who knows about my strange habit just assumes it’s me. You dress up like a big girl’s blouse, you must be shooting blanks. It’s not true though, Percy.’

  I’d been one of the guilty party who’d thought exactly that and I realised then how wrong it was of me.

  ‘But if you know what the problem is, surely you can get help.’ It all seemed so simple to me.

  ‘No. We’ve had our NHS quota of IVF treatments and none of them worked. Unless I can get enough money together to go private, we’re done for. I reckon she might leave me, Perce. I think the strain of it all will break us. I couldn’t bear that.’ His voice cracked and he coughed to shift the emotion.

  ‘Sorry, Percy. I didn’t mean to come round here and dump all my woes on you. It’s just been a tough few days. Stella got her period again on Wednesday and my life’s usually not worth living for about a week afterwards.’

  ‘Oh, Dave, I’m so sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help.’ I rubbed his shoulder and added, ‘If I win the lottery, I’ll pay for your next lot of treatment. OK?’

  ‘Thanks.’ He smiled bravely. ‘… and for listening too. It’s good to get it all off my chest to someone other than the counsellor. I get a bit sick of all her ‘do you think you were abused in childhood?’ questions.’

  He stood up and grabbed his jacket. ‘Better get off and let you get some sleep, eh?’

  We walked to the front door and he kissed me goodbye on the cheek. ‘You know, if it all goes tits up with Stella, I might have another bash at you! You’re one hot babe!’

  Taking this last remark in the humour in which it was hopefully intended, I bashed him on the head and pushed him out into the corridor with a laugh … straight into the arms of a swaying Tom.

  *****

  Was I ever going to get to bed that night?

  Tom came stumbling through the doorway and flopped onto the sofa. He looked ridiculous - his hair was sticking up, his shirt hanging out and three Hawaiian leis were hanging around his neck.

  ‘I been to a party.’ He slurred. ‘I may be a bit pished.’

  ‘Again, Tom?’ I looked at him sternly. ‘You were pissed the last time you came here. Remember? What on earth is going on with you?’

  He screwed up his eyes in an effort to focus on me and was clearly having difficulty in keeping his head still. He took a deep breath and then tried very had to annunciate, ‘I love you Perce.’ He gave an embarrassed, wonky grin. ‘There I’ve said it.’

  Oh for the love of God! What on earth was it with men tonight? Had they all gone totally bonkers? Or was it one giant bet they’d all made with one another to see who could waste the most of my time?

  ‘Oh shut up, Tom! I’m going to make you some strong black coffee. Again!’

  Bashing around the kitchen in temper, I almost tripped over Bogey who had come back to see what all the late night traffic was about.

  ‘The world’s gone mad, Boges! Any minute now Annie and Tittie will turn up and say it’s their dream to have a ménage à trois with me.’

  Bogey looked at me in disgust and then jumped up on the window sill for his favourite pastime of people watching. The simplicity of a cat’s life seemed so enticing. I didn’t know how much energy I had left in me for another heavy discussion and my makeshift bed on the sofa suddenly seemed to be the best place on earth.

  As I turned to get the milk from the fridge, I found myself ploughing into Tom’s arms with him aiming his lips at me in an attempt at a very clumsy, booze-reeking kiss.

  ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing, Tom? Put me down immediately.’ I sounded like a very strict headmistress and thought it would have been enough to dampen any grown man’s ardour.

  But not Tom’s! He was a man on a mission and I could see the determined glint in his sozzled eyes.

  ‘Didn’t you hear me, Perce? I love you! It makes sense for us to be together. We’re both lonely, we get on well. It’s perfect!’

  And so, for the second time that night, I found myself issuing a bollocking. ‘Don’t be so ridiculous, Tom. We’re friends, that’s all.’ I pushed past him and went back to the mugs. ‘Not to mention the fact that you’re about half my size.’

  ‘Now that’s just being ‘sizeist’. He struggled with the word as he steadied himself against the breakfast bar. ‘Cupid doesn’t look at feet and inches when he shoots his arrow.’

  I slammed his coffee down in front of him, ‘Drink that now! And stop acting like a dick.’

  He picked up his cup, winced at the heat and put it back down again. ‘You just need some time to get used to the idea. Once you give it some serious thought you’ll realise that I’m right.’

  ‘Tom, listen to me.’ I spoke to him in the same way that I’d reason with Isla or Jo Jo if I was baby-sitting. ‘Just last week you were saying how taken you were with Diana and that it was just the high maintenance thing that put you off. Have you bothered to call her since your last date? Do you even know what she’s been up to?’

  ‘No!’ He shook his head, slowly and carefully, and sounded like a sulky child stubbornly refusing to put his toys away. ‘It’s over. I want you.’

  I’d really heard it all. He still had no idea the lengths Diana had gone to for him and he also had no idea how right they might be for one another.

  ‘Oh Tom, just drink your coffee and go will you? It’s been a long night and I really need to get some sleep. I have a sneaking feeling that you might just regret all this in the morning. But, as your friend, I’ll forgive you and never mention it again. OK?’

  He slurped noisily at his coffee with his drunken eyes narrowed, swaying dangerously on his stool. Suddenly he sprung to life and slammed his mug back onto the breakfast bar. ‘I think I should go - feeling a bit bleurgh now. But I meant what I said, Perce. You’ll see for yourself if you give it some thought. Life’s too short to be lonely.’ He pushed himself up and weaved precariously towards the door, careering off walls as he went.

  After several steps forward, followed by a couple backwards, he eventually managed to make it to the front door and turned to look at me, leaning exhausted against the wall. ‘I’ll give you a ring tomorrow, oh lovely Persephone. We can start to plan our life.’ He lurched towards me in a last ham-fisted attempt at a kiss and I managed to dodge him whilst successfully opening the door and depositing him firmly outside.

  Slamming the door shut, I slumped up against it exhausted.

  I didn’t envy the hangover or inevitable waves of shame that Tom would be feeling the next day, but it would serve him right. I dragged my tired body to the bathroom to clean my teeth, thinking over the events of the night.

  Three men, two who thought they wanted me and one who knew he didn’t.

  As I settled on my lumpy sofa with Bogey purring manically in my ear, I found myself wondering where things had gone so wrong with Luke. Then, the more I thought about it all, the more cross I became. My evening had been disastrous from start to finish and I’d allowed three men to totally dominate it.

  I turned huffily on the sofa, pulling the duvet sharply around me and sending Bogey flying. My disgruntled cat scarpered out of the room and I was left alone with my miserable thoughts.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Summer turned quickly to autumn, Dad moved out, Tom disappeared into thin air, Diana remained broken hearted, and any thoughts that I might have a romantic encounter with Luke turned to dust.

  I’d tried on numerous occasions to contact Tom - not only to put the whole silly debacle behind us but also to try to pave the way for Diana. He was obviously laying
low and licking his wounds, hoping the shame of his drunken declaration of love would fade into history.

  As for Dave, he seemed to have got the message and had backed off with his innuendo and flirting. In fact, I’d been feeling a little worried about him. His spark seemed to have gone and he was asking for more and more nights off, leaving me to re-arrange the rota and find replacement acts.

  Lubov always agreed to extra performances, as he needed the money to send home to his family, but it was essential to keep the show fresh and varied or our regulars would lose interest.

  I was just doing battle with the following week’s line-up when Tittie stormed into the office and threw himself onto the chair next to me. ‘Annie won’t be in tonight. We’ll need to put someone else on in his slot.’