A Twist in the Tale (2011) Page 2

  In the changing room, I squeezed myself into the tiny outfit and was amazed how good I looked in it. Even though I could see lumps and bumps jutting out in obscure places.

  “How endearing you look, my dear. Here put this on and it’ll give the outfit the finishing touch,” she said handing me a matching hat.

  “All I need now is some blue suede shoes,” I said admiring my image in the mirror.

  She frowned and fell silent.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve never heard that request before with this particular outfit.” She shrugged and set off in search of the shoes.

  “Here we are, dear. I took a gamble on you being a size six.”

  “A six is perfect, thank you.” I tried the shoes on and they were a perfect fit. The shop assistant was right, it did seem an odd combination, but it was what the invitation had stated.

  I paid for the costume hire and stopped by the bakers on the way home and picked up a Cornish pasty for my tea.

  Saturday night arrived and to ease my anxiety I decided to have a nice long soak in the bath. I was halfway through squeezing myself into my costume when the phone rang.

  “Hello?” I said breathlessly.

  “Hi, Chrissie, just checking in to see how you’re doing,” Tania asked exuding excitement.

  “I was just putting my costume on, some friend you are by the way.”

  “What have I done wrong, now?”

  “Why didn’t you tell me I’d put on so much weight,” I chastised her.

  “Oh, Chrissie, I’m so sorry. You’ll soon get it off again. We’ll start going to the gym together next week. Hey, how’s the costume look?”

  “It’s great. The woman at the shop was so helpful. Mind you, I felt a bit like Mr Benn in there.”

  Tania was still laughing when I hung up a few minutes later. She’d wanted to drop by and pick me up but I told her I’d meet her at the party, it was silly for her to go out of their way.

  The taxi driver laughed when I sat in the back of his cab. I swear he was a comedian in his spare time the amount of one-liners he aimed at me. I smiled at him but inside I was seething. I had a horrific thought that maybe my friends would react in the same way when they saw me.

  Of course they won’t, they’ll be wearing the same goofy outfit.

  “There we go. Have a great time, I’m sure you will in that get up,” the driver said when we reached our destination.

  I smoothed down the red felt jacket over my protruding backside and hitched up my green leggings over my round belly. Then I bent down and pulled up my stripy red and white socks, finally I adjusted my pointed green hat.

  I was ready.

  Six months imprisonment well and truly behind me. Life…here I come, again.

  Hesitantly, I rang the bell to the large Georgian home belonging to another good friend of mine.

  Dave answered the door with a can of beer in his hand. He had beer stains galore down the front of his white suit. His eyes sparkled with amusement when he saw me standing on the front step. “Tania, Steve, Sharon, come and take a look,” he shouted behind him.

  Three more pristine white suits appeared and my friends looked at me in awe.

  “Chrissie, what’s going on? Where’s your Elvis outfit?” Tania asked finally.

  “But my invitation said…I have it here.” I took the card out of the envelope. Oh my God, I’d made the most dreadful mistake. Blue suede shoes Elvis party. My mouth dropped open, I’d read it as a blue suede shoes Elves party.

  “As well as joining the gym next week, young lady, I think I’d better enrol you in some reading classes at night school.” Tania said, tears streaming down her face.

  Feeling totally embarrassed I said, “I feel a right Charlie.”

  My good friends thought nothing of my mishap though and shouted in unison, “Hi, Charlie, come join the party.”

  Promising Weekend

  “I’m telling you, Sue, I reckon he’s going to pop the question.” Julie pointed out.

  “What question might that be as if I don’t know?” I sighed and gazed out the café window, watching lovers walk by hand in hand, laughing and smiling at each other.

  “This is the way I see it, a man doesn’t tell his girlfriend they’re going away for a dirty weekend without some ulterior motive.” Julie winked and gave a smug smile.

  “Who mentioned anything about it being a ‘dirty’ weekend?”

  “A romantic weekend for two in Scotland, that’s what you said, right?”

  “That’s right. What’s dirty about that?” I asked, glancing out the window just in time to see another couple playing tonsil hockey at the bus stop opposite.

  Julie shook her head and scowled. “Ooh…you can be so bloomin’ naïve at times.”

  “God, you really are the easiest person on this planet to wind up.” I teased. “It’s a simple weekend away. Anyway, my Rob wouldn’t know the meaning of romance if it whacked him round the face with a wet fish half a dozen times.

  “Okay, Miss Know-it-all, what do you think is behind this grand gesture then?”

  “I couldn’t tell you. I gave up trying to figure out Rob years ago. All I know is that he’s acting a little odd lately. But you know Rob he’s odd at the best of times.”

  “Aha! It is as I predicted, Watson, this weekend your beloved will be asking you to marry him.”

  “All right, Sherlock, get back to smoking your pipe and give it a rest. Take a leaf out of my book, don’t waste valuable time trying to work Rob out.”

  Lunch appeared and ended the conversation as Julie liked her food too much and wasn’t keen on multi-tasking. After all, her stomach’s needs far outweighed mine.

  Which gave me time to mull over what she’d thrown at me. Did Rob intend asking me to marry him? I went over recent conversations we’d had while I tucked into my Chilli. Only last week he’d asked what my favourite colour was. Oh my God, what if he’d been referring to what colour stone I’d prefer. Now you’re being ridiculous.

  Rob was the kind of guy who had a heart of gold but needed constant guidance. His mates call me a nag but I know what’s best for Rob. If I didn’t give him a friendly shove of persuasion then nothing would get done around the house.

  He wasn’t the marrying kind though. He took pleasure reminding me weekly about that. No Julie’s mistaken, she has to be.

  We’ve been living together four years and have had many ups and downs during that time. More downs than ups at the beginning of the relationship but we’d come through the rough times, in fact, they had probably made us stronger. I’d learned a few years back to accept our relationship for what it was and not what it could be.

  He’s a good bloke, I mustn’t grumble. It’s not as if he spends every waking moment down the pub with his mates. On Fridays he hands over the same amount for housekeeping he gave me at the start of our relationship, it’s not his fault he hasn’t realised the cost of food has shot up over the last four years.

  Our sex life is the same as it’s ever been, according to my friends their sex lives dwindle after a couple of years with the same bloke. But once a month is fine by me.

  The only negative thing about living with Rob is the amount of football I’m subjected to, it’s a blessed relief when the summer comes around. Then, I’m in competition with the MG kit car he’s building in the garage. Another couple of weeks and it should be completed maybe that’s when he’ll turn his attention to me.

  “Sue…Earth to, Sue? Are you reading me?”

  “Sorry, Julie, I was miles away.”

  “You don’t say? You were grinning like the Cheshire cat, come on spill?”

  “I was just thinking about Rob and our mystery weekend, that’s all.”

  We settled the bill and went our separate ways. That afternoon Julie’s words played havoc with my mind, so much so that when knocking-off time came at five o’clock, I’d convinced myself she was right and that Rob was about to ask me to
marry him.

  “You all right, Sue?” Rob asked more than once in the car on the long journey up to Scotland.

  “I’m fine, sweetheart.” I assured him numerous times before going back to daydreaming what it’d be like to finally be Mrs Rob Mason.

  As the castle came into view my imagination went wild. I envisioned Rob charging towards me on the back of a horse, a jousting knight about to ask for his fair maidens hand in marriage.

  “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

  “I knew you’d like it. Come on, girl, grab your bag, we should just be in time for dinner.

  “I’d like to freshen up first, maybe take a shower?” I said hopefully.

  “No time, it’s almost ten now. Come on, get your skates on, Sue,” he said over his shoulder as he watched me struggle with my bag.

  We registered at reception and rushed up the stone spiral staircase to our room. We dumped our bags and bolted back down to the dining-room just as one of the waitresses struck the gong for last orders.

  When he showed us to our table, the maître’d looked far from happy that our attire didn’t sit well with our sumptuous surroundings.

  “Isn’t this amazing?” I asked in awe at the gold and red velour themed room.

  “Yeah great, now hurry up and decide what you’re having,” Rob snapped, his eyes scanning the menu in front of him.

  Feeling hurt, I picked out the chicken in white wine sauce served on a bed of rice, he chose the macho steak with all the trimmings.

  We ate in silence. No ring appeared.

  We went back to our room and took to our huge canopied bed still not talking. No ring appeared.

  “Wake up, Sue, it’s seven o’clock,” Rob whispered in my ear the next morning.

  I pulled the pillow over my head and begged him to let me sleep on.

  The sound of the shower running kept me awake though. What the hell is he playing at? I was sitting up reading a good thriller I’d started on my kindle when he breezed into the room.

  Seeing he was in a good mood, I pulled back the covers on his side and patted the bed. “Fancy a cuddle?” I asked giving him a seductive look that matched my voice.

  “Haven’t got time. Come on, girl, get a wriggle on, we’ve got an appointment at nine-thirty.”

  “What? Who with?”

  “It’s a surprise.”

  I shot out of bed and dived into the shower. An appointment, I wonder who that’s with? Oh my God, Gretna Green is about half an hour from here. Maybe we’re going to meet an exclusive jeweller. Or perhaps we had a meeting with the wedding planner at the castle. I’d love to get married here.

  My heart pounded as I dressed in my smartest suit I’d had the foresight to bring with me.

  Rob looked passable in a clean pair of jeans and his leather jacket. He really didn’t have a clue about fashion. I guess I could forgive him just this once.

  “Where are we going?” I asked excitedly, he was pulling me across the beautifully manicured lawn. I wonder if the castle has its own quaint chapel.

  “Here it is. What do you think? I knew it would be big but this is phenomenal!” Rob said beaming from ear to ear.

  I couldn’t help being taken aback as all my dreams drifted away on the summer breeze.

  Before me stood not the quaint little chapel I’d expected, but several large marques and hundreds of vintage MG sports cars.

  “Come on, Sue, we’ve got to find the Bob Moore paint specialist stand.”

  “What? What the hell for?” I shouted in disbelief.

  “That’s my surprise! I want you to pick the colour for the MG. They have several shades of red and green in their catalogue and I just don’t know which one to select…”

  I was tempting to slap him round the face, but then that’s Rob for you, dependable and sometimes unpredictable to a fault.

  Turning back time

  The four-metre banner told me I had come to the right place. ‘Welcome to the Class of ’84 reunion,’ it screams in thick black letters.

  I push open the door to find the barn bursting at the seams with old school pals, most of whom I have trouble recognising.

  The moment I see him the hair of the back of my neck stands to attention, like guards on duty at Buckingham palace.

  Had it really been twenty years since he’d first caused my legs to wobble like a blancmange?

  Oh my God, he’s as gorgeous as ever, I notice as he turns and glances my way.

  Our eyes meet and I’m transported back to yesteryear.

  He beckons me over with his finger and his smile makes my heart do several somersaults. A blush creeps up my neck and settles in my cheeks as I weave my way through the crowd towards him.

  “Jill, how wonderful to see you. Looks like the years have been kind to you. You couldn’t possibly have had kids and kept a figure like that?” Gushes the dreadful Sandra blocking my path.

  “Oh hi, Sandra. Sorry to disappoint you but actually I’ve got three.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her the youngest is only six-months-old.

  Her nostrils flared and I could tell she was seething by my admission. She self-consciously glances down at the layers of fat she’s accumulated over the decades.

  Before I have the chance to fire the same question back at her, she takes flight, her next victim already lined up. Nice to know some people haven’t altered over the years.

  I smile and shake my head before proceeding on my journey, a journey that will eventually lead me to Trevor Stevens, my first truelove.

  But old classmates continually hamper my endeavours. Which makes me ask, Why, oh why had I been so damn popular at school. Each time I’m interrupted I glance over at Trevor issuing a silent plea for him to be patient.

  His eyes sparkle with mischief. Suddenly I feel insecure. Will he wait or will he walk away?

  But my fears prove to be unfounded when he smiles and patiently takes a sip of his drink.

  My frustration mounts because I’m dying to be with him one more time. But I’m far too polite to ignore long lost friends wanting to catch up.

  Half an hour later I finally make it to his table. My insides are bubbling, overflowing with excitement.

  He moistens his lips and utters my name, “Hello, Jill.”

  My heart leaps as he pushes back his chair. Oh my God, is he about to kiss me?

  His restraint is admirable, instead he takes my hand and kisses the back of it. I struggle to control my disappointment. Behave yourself Jill, you’re a married woman for God’s sake!

  My eyes wander the length and breadth of his perfect physique and my heart pounds rhythmically. He’s changed very little since the first day I laid eyes on him, an odd grey hair here and there doesn’t really count. Sparkling vivid green eyes set in a golden-tanned, strong featured face was all a girl ever dreamed of waking up to every morning.

  “Hello, Trevor, you’re looking as good as ever,” I said, fighting hard to keep my excitement in check. I’m determined to keep my feelings under control despite my inner turmoil. I can honestly say that in twenty years he’s never drifted from my thoughts.

  “Still as popular as ever I see.” He jokes and motions for me to take a seat.

  I shrug an apology, he responds with another devastating smile.

  “Don’t you ever get tired of all the attention, Jill?” Trevor asks with amused interest.

  “They’re only being friendly because it’s a reunion. If I saw them in the street they probably wouldn’t give me the time of day. It’s no big deal.”

  “You’re amazing. Still as beautiful as the day we started secondary school together. How is that possible?” he asked, his eyes roaming every inch of my body.

  “Good genes, I suppose,” I reply modestly before saying, “Anyway, you’re one to talk, your wife’s a very lucky lady, I hope she realises that?”

  He chuckles. “I make sure I tell her that every morning without fail.”

  I laugh at his blatant egotism. “Now that, I can believe.
”

  I feel flirtatious in his company, willing to drop the inhibitions that had been prominent throughout our teens.

  I find myself hanging on his every word as we compare our lives since our school days. We laugh together at the individual mistakes we’ve made along life’s interesting and challenging roads.

  Envious eyes watch our reunion with interest. But it doesn’t matter, we only have eyes for each other.

  Trevor Stevens is a true gentleman, attentive and humourous to a fault.

  “Fancy a dance, Jill?”

  I jump at the chance to feel his strong arms around me.

  On the dance floor the slow music thrusts us into a secret world where only the two of us exists.

  As the sound of the Commodores’ Three times a lady signifies the last dance of the evening, I swallow the lump of disappointment that has formed in my throat.

  “Can I walk you home?” Trevor whispers in my ear before he pecks me lightly on the cheek.

  It’s the first time during the course of the evening he’s really shown how much he still cares for me. “Why that would be wonderful, Mr Stevens,” I reply in my best Scarlet O’Hara voice.

  We say a hurried farewell to the others and make a joke about meeting up again in another twenty years from now. Then we leave and begin the long walk home, my arm tucked through his, the romantic full moon guiding our way.

  As the garden gate looms closer my breathing becomes restrictive. I turn and gaze nervously into his eyes. “I’ve had a fantastic evening, Trevor, it’s a shame it has to end.” Emotional tears threaten to spill down my cheeks.

  He takes my chin in his hand and his eyes search deep into mine. “It needn’t end this way, Jill.” He has a devilish glint in his eyes.

  His effrontery knows no bounds.

  “Why, Mr Stevens, what on earth do you mean?”

  “Well, Mrs Stevens, I’m suggesting we try and recapture our youth inside, in the warm.”

  Lonely Christmas without you.