Stilettos & Stubble

by Amanda Egan

  We managed to find out that Annie had never suffered from depression before and that it was uncharacteristic of him to just disappear. It really was quite worrying.

  ‘I’ve tried all our friends … even people we’ve not seen for years and I’ve had no joy. I’m at my wits’ end, guys.’ Tittie flopped in the chair, all of his usual elegance discarded and an air of defeat around him.

  I went to him and knelt by his side, rubbing his knees and stroking his arm. Suddenly I spotted my watch. Shit! It was almost time for me to be out front and I hadn’t changed or done my make up.

  ‘Dave, get Tittie a drink and sit and chat to him for a bit. I’ve got to get organised and give the girls a shout. It’s more important than ever that we keep this place running like clockwork now. I’ll be back, Tittie. Have a drink and relax. Don’t worry, we’ll sort this.’

  I grabbed my bag and clothes - a very simple black shift dress with minimal jewellery and make up would have to do for the night. There were more important things to deal with and my appearance was not top of the list.

  It would be a low-key but high voltage Percy on the door that night. I needed to work the crowds and get them all hyped up about the exciting new acts we had joining us.

  I wouldn’t let The Glove go down without a bloody good fight.

  *****

  I threw my clothes on, flicked my hair, added the quickest slick of mascara and lip gloss and then started to make my way back to the office via front of house. Lubov was just arriving - rather later than usual - and I saw him giving a fleeting wave to the car that dropped him off.

  There was something about the driver’s profile that looked familiar and drew my attention but I didn’t have time to process the information and it was instantly forgotten as my mobile signalled a text.

  It was from Tom. I clicked my mobile shut in annoyance. He could bloody well wait. I had enough to contend with without silly school boy crushes from blokes who then went AWOL because of their shame. He had a lot of explaining to do and leaving him to stew a little longer after all this time wouldn’t hurt.

  Quickly checking that the girls were dressed and ready, I heard Lubov humming to himself, as usual, in the firmly locked loo. His doleful songs had given way to more upbeat tunes lately and I realised that most of the queens had no idea how bad things really were. I intended to keep it that way. Low morale was the last thing we needed and if I could protect them from the stark truth, that could only be a good thing.

  Returning to the office to dump my bag and carry on my chat with Tittie, I caught a glimpse of myself in the hallway mirror. For someone who had thrown themselves together in roughly five minutes flat and had the troubles of the world on their shoulders, I’d scrubbed up pretty well. It made me realise how ridiculous I’d made myself look by attempting the complete set of beauty treatments. Fake tan and nails weren’t for me - what had I been thinking? My look that night wasn’t my usual ‘full-slap, glammed-up, on-duty’ look but I gave the impression of a confident, capable woman who could take on the world.

  Which was just as well because my life was about to become a whole lot more complicated.

  *****

  I found Dave alone in the office, finishing off his pint and running his hands through his blonde bombshell wig.

  ‘Tittie’s left, Perce. He said he had to keep looking for Annie and promised he’d be back in touch. I tried to tactfully broach the subject of the outstanding bills but he’s not thinking straight. He just said he’d deal with it.’

  I placed my bag in the desk drawer and slipped my feet into my heels. ‘Right! Well let’s not think about any of this crap tonight. Let’s just get this show on the road and give the punters a good time. It’s all we can do for now.’

  Dave high-fived me, almost knocking me over with his strength, and we went through to open up. Most of the tables were booked for the night, with a few available for passing trade. It promised to be a reasonably easy night and for that I was grateful. Once the doors were locked I’d decided to try to work on my novel again to take my mind off things. The following day was going to be a toughie and I figured I deserved a little light relief before I tackled what lay ahead of me.

  By nine we were just over half full and I was pleased to see a queue gathering at the door. Greeting them and taking their money, I realised that it was Luke’s crowd again, this time with a bevy of beauties in tow. At the back of the group was Luke himself, looking as yummy as ever and seemingly trying to avoid engaging in conversation with two overly highlighted Sloane Rangers.

  ‘Oh, Lukie. Can I sit next to you tonight? We can chat about my skiing hols. You’ve done Val d’Isère heaps of times, haven’t you?’ Bimbo #1 simpered and fluttered as Bimbo #2 looked huffy and sulky.

  Luke caught my eye and smiled. It was a smile that was becoming quite familiar now. As was the feeling it gave me - a painful mix of longing and sadness. He was out of my league; there was no getting away from it. The nearest I’d got to skiing was sliding on my mum’s old tea tray down a hill in Richmond Park with Mia when we were thirteen. And as for the sleek grooming and preening, I’d had a go at that and failed abysmally.

  I showed his party through to their tables and as I made my way back through the door Luke leaned over and caught my arm. ‘Can I buy you a drink later? If I join you front of house?’

  I nodded and gulped, glad of the low lighting as I could feel the treacherous flush rising from my chest to my face.

  Once back at my desk I took deep, calming breaths. A quick check in my hand mirror showed that I actually looked OK with my subtle make up and natural skin tone.

  Then I slammed the mirror down and frowned. What was I thinking? Our last date had been a complete and utter balls up. He couldn’t have shown less interest if he’d tried. He was a messer - he had to be. Was there an equivalent to a prick tease? Because if there was, he was most definitely one of them.

  I stuffed the mirror back in the drawer in temper, hastily tidied the desk and then cheered myself up by inventing names for his type.

  ‘Fandango flirt!’ I giggled to myself.

  ‘Beaver bully!’ Another chuckle popped out.

  ‘Muff magician!’ I laughed out loud and added, ‘Oooh, I like that one!’

  ‘Having fun?’

  I lifted my head and looked fully into the eyes of Luke, instantly wishing that I’d disappear in a puff of mortified smoke, leaving my size eighteen dress and my size nine shoes in a heap on the floor.

  ‘Oh yes, yes!’ I tittered. ‘Great fun, thanks. Erm … just running through a few ideas for my next book actually.’

  ‘I bought you a glass of white wine,’ he placed the glass on the desk and leaned over to me. ‘I hope that’s OK.’

  I felt myself melting to his charms yet again and knew I had to be on my guard. He wouldn’t get away with performing his magic on me a second time. I accepted the drink from him with a faint smile. ‘Thanks, that was kind of you. I’ll let you get back to the show now.’

  He walked somewhat reluctantly to the door and then turned back. ‘Percy, I don’t know how I keep managing to get myself in this situation, but I feel I owe you another apology.’

  ‘An apology? No no. I don’t know why you’d think that.’ I really didn’t want to hear that he felt he’d made a mistake in asking me on a date and I was sure that that was what it would be.

  ‘Listen to me, Percy. I like you. I like you a lot and I stuffed up last time. I had a lot on my mind and I let it affect our time together. It was wrong of me and I’m sorry. Would you consider giving me another chance?’

  Had I just heard him right? Would I consider …?

  I was just about to open my mouth with a highly inappropriate, ‘Hell, yeah!’ when, as if transported to some kind of bad dream, my mother burst in from the street shouting, ‘Persephone, where the fuck is your father and how long have you known he’s gay?’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  You know that saying ‘Time stood still’?
Well I never knew exactly what it meant until that moment.

  There I was with the man of my dreams asking me for a second (third?) chance and my mother had arrived looking as immaculately groomed as ever but with more than a hint of wild about her. In fact, she looked like a woman possessed and I actually caught sight of Luke stepping back in horror as she approached the desk and gave it a terrifying thump with her hand.

  In a very low and steady voice, punctuated with deep, measured breaths, she looked at me with manic eyes and said, ‘Lock … the … club … immediately … and … tell … me … what … you … know … Persephone.’

  Thankfully Betty appeared to save the day and, spotting that we had more potential trouble on our hands, offered to take over front of house and suggested I take my mother to the office.

  I was vaguely aware of Luke slipping away into the background and going back through to the club and his party, obviously relieved to have escaped the madness of a rather peculiar domestic.

  Shuffling my mother through the corridor to the office, I couldn’t help thinking how out of kilter she looked in the place I’d grown to love. She had no concept of the new life I’d carved for myself and I knew it was something she could never begin to understand. I belonged there. For the first time in my life, I belonged and I was making a difference. It had taken the appearance of my ‘oh so perfect’ mother to make me see that.

  She stood in the middle of my office and wrinkled her nose in disgust. ‘You expect me to talk here? Where am I meant to sit for goodness sake?’

  I gestured to the chair at my desk, already beginning to feel my feathers ruffled. She would not turn up at my place of work, embarrass me, and then start to put it or me down.

  ‘That is a chair, Mother. Use it. And this is my office - the only place we can talk. If you insist on turning up at inconvenient times with your ridiculous accusations, this will have to do. Next time, give me plenty of warning and I’ll book us a table at ‘The Ivy’.’

  My mother brushed the totally clean chair with a hanky and then positioned herself on the very edge as if it were flea infested. ‘Don’t be so facetious, Persephone, and get me a glass of champagne. I assume this dive of a place stocks such basics?’

  She really was a bloody nightmare and I’d had enough. ‘Yes, Mother, we do serve it. By the bottle. And if you want to buy one, I’ll happily relieve you of forty eight pounds fifty. Shall I organise Tarquin to bring one through?’

  My mother flinched. ‘What? You expect me to pay for it? Don’t be so ridiculous.’

  I sat on the chair next to her and smiled sweetly. ‘Yes that’s exactly what I expect you to do. We’re running a business here - not a charity - and if you want a drink, you’ll have to cough up for it.’

  I knew that my mother was like the Queen when it came to money. She never carried any as she knew there’d always be someone who’d put their hand in their pocket for her. Not on this occasion.

  ‘So … start talking, I don’t have long.’ I deliberately ignored her sulky look at being denied a drink and moved the conversation swiftly on. ‘I’ve got a job I need to be getting on with so I’d appreciate it if we could get this little chat out of the way as quickly as possible.’

  ‘Yes, and it’s your job that’s got us in all this trouble.’ She spat the word ‘job’ in much the same way as she would use an expletive. ‘None of this would have happened if you hadn’t started to introduce your father to homosexuals.’ This final word was whispered. ‘I hold you fully responsible, Persephone.’

  It was ludicrous that my mother could even begin to think that my dad was gay but even more so that she’d point the finger of blame at me if by some strange turn of events he was.

  ‘Mother, I think you need to take a step back for a minute and have a little think. You left Daddy, remember? You shacked up with Nigel. You made it more than clear that you were done with your marriage and you moved on. Whatever Daddy decides to do is actually none of your business.’

  ‘She’s right, Sophia.’

  We both turned to see my dad standing in the doorway looking more youthful and handsome than I’d seen him in years.

  ‘Gordon!’ My mother stood and went over to him. ‘I demand to know what’s going on! I’m your wife. The rumours of your shenanigans are getting out of control at the tennis club and I won’t have it.’

  ‘Sophia, my love, you can demand all you like. It won’t get you anywhere. And as for the title of ‘wife’ I think we can only use that in the past tense now that divorce proceedings are under way.’ He came over and kissed me on the cheek. ‘Sorry about all this, Perce. We shouldn’t be airing our dirty laundry here. I just came to see the show and Betty told me what was going on.’

  My lovely dad then turned to my flushed mother and said, ‘I think its best if you leave now, don’t you Sophia? Our daughter’s in her place of work, in case you’d forgotten.’

  My mother twitched and blinked furiously, unable to believe that she was being dismissed without any answers. She then grabbed her huge designer handbag - which no doubt had a price tag to match, funded by Daddy - and stormed towards the exit.

  With her hand resting on the doorknob, she turned back to us with a steely look in her eye. ‘You haven’t heard the last of this, Gordon. I shall be contacting my solicitor and telling him of your change in sexuality and I shall also let him know about your unnatural sexual urges during our marriage. Good night!’

  My father and I both exhaled huge breaths of relief when she left and then turned to one another and began to laugh.

  I poured us both a much needed drink and we sat at my desk.

  ‘So, Daddy? I hate to ask but … got anything to tell me?’

  He looked at me with a twinkle in his eye - that twinkle had been missing for a while and I was delighted to see it back. ‘No, Percy, I’m not gay, if that’s what you were wondering. I just like being here. I like hanging out with people who accept one another, warts and all. I feel comfortable here.’ He sipped at his drink and winced. ‘And no, I don’t have any desires to dress up in women’s clothes either.’

  ‘Phew! Well I’m glad that’s sorted then. It’s been quite a night you know.’ I downed my drink in one and then stood to place the glass up on the tray.

  ‘I’m really sorry that your mother came storming in here like that. She had no right.’

  ‘Not a problem, Daddy, and certainly not something you should apologise for. I’m just glad you feel happy here, cos I do too.’

  He stood and straightened his tie, looking as if he were about to make his way back to the show.

  ‘Just one last question.’ I stopped him as he got to the door. ‘And it’s a question that a daughter should never have to ask her father but … what did she mean by ‘unnatural sexual urges?’’ I knew if I didn’t ask, it would bug me to my dying day and I’d do battle with all sorts of mental images like whips, chains and oranges stuffed in mouths. I didn’t want to live my life with thoughts like that.

  Daddy let out a booming laugh. ‘D’you know what, Perce? I have no idea! I do remember asking her once if we could make love before she covered herself in her anti-ageing cream and she did give me a look of disgust. Maybe it was that?’

  Again we looked at one another and spluttered. It was so good to see my dad happy again.

  *****

  Normality returned and the rest of the night passed without further dramas. The acts left, kissing me goodbye and uttering words of sympathy and solidarity regarding my mother’s outburst. My father was enthusiastically tagging along with the crowd to head back to Lady’s for a nightcap. I’d declined their invitation as I just felt I needed time alone to get my head together. The bills were lurking in their drawer and I knew I’d be unable to put on a stoic face with the girls until I’d made the vital phone calls the next day.

  I was just about to put the top lock on the front door when I heard a quiet movement behind me and I turned to see Luke shuffling his feet and looking a little awkw
ard. ‘I hope you don’t mind, Percy, but I wanted to stay behind and talk to you. I know what it’s like to have a parent embarrass you and I didn’t want you to think it changed anything between us. Your mum was out of order - I hope you told her as much.’

  I finished locking up and led him through to the performance area. Suddenly a quiet drink with a fit bloke seemed to be the best medicine any doctor could offer.

  I flicked the low lights back on behind the bar and asked, ‘What can I get you? It’s on me. And I shall be having a very large one after the trauma I’ve been through.’

  We settled with our drinks, side by side at the bar and I began to relax as I listened to Judy Garland singing on the CD I’d put on in the background, the troubles of the day starting to drift away.