The Desperate Bride’s Diet Club (34 page)

‘So, about these shelves …’ said
Edward, eventually breaking the silence.

‘It’s not important,’ said Kathy.

‘How about Sunday? The shop’s closed then, isn’t it?’

‘It really doesn’t matter.’

Edward stopped walking and grabbed Kathy by the arm. ‘OK,’ he told her. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I don’t know what you mean,’ stammered Kathy.

He had such kind eyes. And that breadth of shoulder and rib cage made her heart sing. This was
bad. She had enough on her plate without having a crush on Edward as well.

Edward released her and dragged a hand through his hair. ‘Have I done something to offend you in any way? Because I’ve been racking my brains and I just don’t know what’s changed between us. But something has.’

Kathy’s insides clenched. She was an idiot. And, apparently, not quite the fine actress she had considered herself
to be.

‘It’s fine,’ she told him. ‘It’s not you, it’s me.’

Edward stared at her. ‘Isn’t that what people say when they’re breaking up with someone?’

Kathy bit her lip and couldn’t think of anything to say.

‘I thought we were friends,’ Edward told her. ‘I was enjoying your company.’

‘Me too,’ said Kathy. ‘Look, forget about it. I’m an idiot. An emotional wreck. Who wants company with that?’

‘I do,’ said Edward.

God, this was terrible. He must think her a total headcase.

‘I’m sorry,’ said Kathy, dropping her head. ‘I never meant to upset you.’

‘How sorry?’

Kathy lifted her head up to look at Edward.

‘Are you so sorry that you’ll be my date for the end of cricket season do? It’s in two weeks’ time.’

His date? Kathy gulped.

‘Otherwise I’ll have to take one of my sisters and that
would be really embarrassing.’

Edward was smiling at her but Kathy’s brief smile had dropped. So the only reason he wanted her to go with him was to stop him looking like some saddo? He was desperate so he thought of Kathy? Charming.

‘It’s a fancy-dress party,’ carried on Edward, seemingly unaware of the pain his words were causing. ‘So you don’t have to wear a posh frock or anything.’

And
now he was saying that she didn’t own any nice clothes? Was that because she was still fat?

‘You could just go as a witch,’ said Edward, whose smile was beginning to falter. ‘Or something like that.’

‘I’ll think about it,’ snarled Kathy.

She walked away, hoping he wouldn’t see the tears streaming down her cheeks.

Edward sighed as he watched Kathy hurry away.

His confidence was soaring as
the stones dropped off him and he toned up. He knew he was looking good and was even aware of a couple of girls in the office starting to flirt with him.

Trouble was, Kathy had slunk into his heart when he wasn’t watching and now he realised he didn’t want to lose her.

But he seemed to have got it all wrong again.

There was every possibility that the party would turn into a horror show.

VIOLET WAS TRYING
to feel confident as she swung the salon door open.

‘Hi!’ said the skinny teenager behind the reception desk with a wide smile. ‘Can I help you?’

‘I’ve got an appointment booked in the name of Saunders.’

The girl tapped her computer screen a couple of times. ‘Violet? OK. Take a seat. Sarah will be along soon.’

Violet glanced at the other customers as she
sank on to the long leather sofas in the waiting area. To her surprise, there was a broad range of ages and types, from yummy mummies and their perfect children to white-haired pensioners. The catwalk models she had assumed would be there were nowhere to be seen.

The combined heat of the hairdryers, sinks and people were making Violet’s cheeks flush so she took off her scarf and coat, placing
them next to her on the sofa.

She was wearing a pair of new jeans which were a size fourteen. No sooner did she buy a new pair of trousers than she was buying a smaller size. Over the new jeans she had on her latest, favourite purchase, knee-length biker boots. She had lost so much weight that she could finally get boots over her calves. It was bizarre which areas the body lost inches from. Her
shoes had gone down another half a size as well.

A young salon assistant came to stand in front of Violet.

‘Do you want to follow me?’

Violet duly trotted behind her to a large wardrobe, where her coat and scarf were hung up. In their place, a black cape was draped over her. Then she was led to sit in front of one of the thirty or so mirrors to wait for the stylist.

Violet glanced from side
to side but every customer looked the same in their black capes. Only their faces differed. People looked relaxed, as if this wasn’t at all anything special.

‘Hi. I’m Sarah,’ said a pretty blond woman coming to stand next to Violet. She talked to Violet through their reflections in the mirror. ‘What can I do for you today?’

‘I don’t really know,’ stammered Violet.

And she didn’t, she realised.
The idea had been a quick trim but now, sitting here amongst all these people, she wasn’t so sure.

Sarah picked up a long strand of Violet’s black hair. ‘It’s not in bad condition,’ she said. ‘How long have you worn it like this?’

‘For ever,’ said Violet, before giving Sarah a rueful smile. ‘Sorry to be so vague. I’ve lost some weight and now it’s as if my hair doesn’t fit my new body.’

Her
shoulders sagged. She must sound stupid.

But Sarah replied, ‘I know what you mean. Look, you’ve got fantastic hair. It’s thick with a slight wave so it would hold a really blunt cut. How brave are you feeling?’

Violet gulped.

‘How about I trim it to here?’

She held her hand just above Violet’s shoulder, holding out the six inches of hair that would be lost. Violet took a deep intake of breath
but then found she didn’t really mind. She’d shed the inches around her body, why not her hair too?

‘Trust me,’ said Sarah. ‘It’ll look brilliant.’

Violet was led over to a row of sinks where a different salon assistant washed and conditioned her hair. It was a total pampering experience, because not only was her back massaged by the long leather chair underneath her, the assistant also massaged
her scalp whilst the conditioner worked its magic. It was wonderful.

Violet realised it was time to start spoiling herself with little experiences like this. Not extravagant days at the spa but small things like making sure her toenails were always polished and that she was wearing make-up. Things to make her feel more feminine.

Back at the mirror, Sarah chatted to her as her scissors scythed
their way through Violet’s hair. She asked Violet about her weight loss and Violet was able to tell her that she was three and a half stone down with only one and a half to go.

‘That’s amazing,’ said Sarah.

And it was, Violet told herself.

But not nearly as amazing as her reflection once
Sarah
had wielded her magic scissors and hairdryer. Violet couldn’t quite believe it was her.

She was no
longer hidden behind a black curtain which made her cheeks seem huge. Her hair was now shoulder length, a simple but classic cut, which gave her hair more bounce than it had ever had. No longer dead straight, it fell softly with the odd small wave. The parting was just off centre with some strands falling over her forehead and down the side of her face.

She bought the smoothing cream that Sarah
had used before blow drying her hair but Sarah had also assured her that the hair would look good even when it dried naturally.

Violet thanked her over and over again, still not quite believing the transformation. She paid at reception and then wandered out of the salon in a daze.

She walked down the high street, unable to prevent herself from staring at her reflection in every shop window.
Was that slim, stylish woman really Violet?

She treated herself to a coffee, still glancing over at a nearby mirror to check her hair. It was fantastic. But her face needed something else. A little bit of fairy dust as well.

So Violet hit Boots and treated herself to some new make-up. One of the wedding magazines had recommended telling the ladies behind the beauty counter that she was a bride-to-be.
As promised, they duly offered Violet a huge array of cosmetics to try, along with a few freebies. She stuck to neutral, classic colours that weren’t too different from her skin colour. Just enough to highlight and enhance.

She was just walking out of the shop past the perfume counters when she inhaled a familiar smell.
She
followed her nose and stared at the display in front of her. It was all
the Ralph Lauren perfumes.

She sniffed the top of each bottle until she found the fragrance she was looking for. That was it. That was the perfume her mother must have worn. She glanced at the bottle. Romance was the name. She squirted a little on her wrist and sniffed. Yes, that was definitely the one.

Violet never wore perfume. Yet another piece of femininity that she appeared to have missed
out on. But no longer. She squirted a little on her neck from the tester before buying a brand-new bottle.

Then she was on her way once more, weaving her way through the Saturday crowds and continuing to check out her new reflection as she went. By the time she got home it was tea time and Violet knew that Sebastian would be back from his day of golf.

‘Hello!’ she cried as she pushed open the
front door.

Sebastian came out of the kitchen with a scowl on his face. ‘Where have you been?’

‘Hairdressers,’ said Violet, flicking her head to and fro so he could see her new haircut. ‘What do you think?’

His eyes popped wide open. ‘What the hell have you done?’

‘I got a haircut. Like it?’

Sebastian frowned. ‘No.’

Violet’s smile dropped. ‘Really?’

He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I liked it
the way it was. Anyway, you didn’t tell me you had an appointment this afternoon.’

‘You were playing golf. What did it matter?’

‘You weren’t here when I got back.’

‘So?’

He was whining like a child, thought Violet. Sometimes he was like a baby that needed constant attention.

Violet drew a deep breath. ‘I thought it could do with a change. Anyway, I like it.’

‘And that’s all that matters,
I suppose.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

Sebastian crossed his arms in front of him. ‘Well, it’s all about you these days, isn’t it? You and your weight loss. You and your new job, which is so great. You and your new friends.’

‘You’d have preferred me to stay as I was?’ snapped Violet. ‘Miserable and fat?’

‘At least I knew where I stood.’

‘Yes and I knew exactly where I stood,’ said Violet.
‘At the bottom of the pile, as I recall.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she added quickly. She didn’t want to talk about the other woman now.

‘I’m sorry if you feel that I’m focusing on myself at the minute but I’m trying to get a life for myself, to get some confidence. Don’t you want that for me too?’

‘I just want things back as they were.’

Tough, thought Violet, but
managed to stop herself saying it just in time. Yet some truths still bubbled to the surface.

‘And I’m sick of the fact that I get no support from you whatsoever,’ she said. ‘After all, I am your fiancée.’

‘Then start acting like it,’ he retorted. ‘This is all to do with those fat freaks you’re hanging round with, isn’t it? They’re putting poison in your head.’

Violet’s voice remained calm
even though she was simmering with anger. ‘They’re not freaks. They’re my friends. I’ve never once moaned about your snooty
mates
who never speak to me, not that it seems to bother you.’

Sebastian went to snap back at her but she held up her hand to stop him.

‘And just remember, Sebastian. I was a fat freak too.’

Then she went upstairs and slammed the bedroom door behind her.

VIOLET FLUNG HERSELF
on her bed and cried until the tears would come no more. She had been so happy that afternoon but now it was all ruined. Her joy in her beautiful haircut, her buoyant mood. All gone. She had ruined it, as usual.

What was wrong with her? She had snapped at Sebastian, pushing him away. He was probably downstairs wondering how he could get the engagement ring
back from her. It was the biggest row they had ever had. Why was he irritating her so much at the minute?

She suddenly sat bolt upright and got up, wiping the tears from her cheeks. She cracked open the bedroom door and listened. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest as she strained to hear any movement at all. It was worse than she had feared. He had left. And was probably never coming back.

Suddenly, she heard it. The faint hum of chatter on the television.

Violet crept downstairs and into the lounge. Sebastian was sprawled on the sofa with his feet up.

She cleared her throat to speak but he didn’t look at her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, unable to find her full voice.

He slowly turned to look up at her as she stood next to him. ‘Are you?’

‘Yes,’ she told him. ‘I don’t know what
came over me.’

He finally turned down the volume on the television. ‘I keep telling you. It’s these women you’re hanging around with. They’re giving you ideas. Making you think differently.’

Violet didn’t agree with him about that but she stayed quiet. She had already caused enough trouble that evening.

‘Friends?’ she asked with a tremulous smile.

He rose from the sofa to stand in front of
her. ‘I hope so,’ he told her. ‘Now, what about a diet-busting takeaway?’

She was so remorseful about upsetting him that she ate every portion of the Chinese he ordered for them. Later on, Sebastian made love to her. But Violet found it hard to relax after their row and Sebastian never lingered over the foreplay. So she faked an orgasm just so he would finish and go to sleep.

Violet was still
feeling low on Monday morning when she walked into work. She had so nearly ruined it. Had so nearly lost him. She had to be more careful. She had to watch what she said. He was all she had, all she would ever have. And she didn’t know what she would do without his love.