I wake up the next morning at a quarter to seven. I turn off my alarm clock that is due to ring in fifteen minutes. I glance at my phone. There are no messages from Casey. He’s probably still wrapped up with Beatrix. I shower, get changed and head out of the building. It’s a beautiful sunny day.
The trouble is, I can’t force myself onto the pavement and route into the office. My legs simply won’t move that way. I sit down on the bench, next to the wooden bird table. I don’t have many scraps for it lately. I often used to cover it, on the way to work, with a crushed stale scone or bread crusts. I lean back as the last blossom petals float down like hesitant confetti.
‘Violet? Everything okay?’ says Bella, looking super fit in her spa uniform and bouncy ponytail. She’s out of breath. ‘I forgot my purse. How are you feeling?’
‘I can’t believe what an idiot I was, running away just at the moment Casey and I were about to get really close. Thanks for listening to me last night. I didn’t even ask how your date went.’
She sits down next to me and squeezes my shoulder. ‘Violet…there’s still over a week until the party. We aren’t giving up yet.’
‘What’s the point of carrying on? I’ve been kidding myself.’
She insists I stand up, and marches me over to look in front of a window straight ahead. ‘Compared to your average Joe that comes into the spa, you look great. But I promised that I’d make you look like an A-lister and there are still a couple of areas we could improve. Don’t be weak like the old you. Get a grip, Violet, and stop feeling sorry for yourself. I haven’t spent weeks getting you into shape for you to lose your nerve at the last minute.’
Harsh words. Perhaps I need to hear them. I look at her determined face and nod. Bella’s not one to abandon a project.
‘Let’s combine the jogging with some fitness DVDs. And I watched an amazing show last night on top lingerie models. There was some serious ribcage bragging going on and they did look amazing. Taut. Slick. Not an ounce of flesh to spare. To me, that’s perfection.’
Was it? I bit my lip. Hadn’t I done enough already? Did I really need to go that far?
Bella must have sensed my hesitation and squeezed my arm. ‘It represents someone who is ultra disciplined and prepared to do whatever it takes to get what they want in life. It’s no different to Daniel Craig following his rigid regime to get in shape to play James Bond. Success is only achieved by working bloody hard. It won’t be handed to you on a plate – certainly not a full one. My parents never supported my career ambitions. They said a degree was worth far more than a beauty qualification. But I’ve gritted my teeth and showed them I could make a success of my passion. We get on well now. They’ve even told me how proud they are of the direction my life’s taking.’
She’s right. I’m a fool for thinking otherwise.
We sit down again. A blue tit lands on the bird table and cocks its head before pecking at a lump of cake.
‘You already fit my clothes, Violet. You’ve got used to wearing contacts and drink so much water you’re almost under threat of being overhydrated. I’m so proud that you’ve come this far but please, don’t disappoint me. I don’t want to lose respect for the woman I’ve become so fond of.’
‘Don’t worry. And I’m grateful for how far you’ve got me.’
She stands up. ‘Come on. Let’s walk down the road together.’
‘I just can’t face going in today. Farah won’t give up – she was trying to push chocolate on me yesterday. Irfan’s cross at the way I spoke to her, but why should I be bullied into eating something I don’t want?’
‘You know what? Take the day off work, then.’ Her voice becomes softer and she rubs my back. She always seems to know exactly what to say. ‘Farah and Irfan don’t understand you. Not like I do. Take a day to get your head together again. It’s not as if you regularly ring in sick.’
‘I never have. Not once.’ What a mug. I bet Beatrix did if she’d still got a lover in bed or had been partying too hard.
‘Whatever you think, it sounds to me as if Casey is really into you. Why don’t you text and arrange another date?’
I don’t meet her eye. She gives me a hug. Says she’s proud of me for sticking with the programme.
Bella’s a great friend. In fact... she’s my best. No one understands me quite like her. We say goodbye and with a sigh I drag myself back indoors and am about to take the stairs up to my flat when the lift opens.
‘Aren’t you going in the wrong direction?’ says Kath as she walks up to me.
I take out my keys. ‘I’m not going in today. I wasn’t well last night. It was optimistic getting up early and changed. In fact, I must ring Irfan. Have a good day.’ I hurry up the stairs. A wave of relief washes over me as I close my flat door behind me and sink onto the sofa. I text Irfan.
Not well. Apologies. Hopefully in tomorrow. Violet.
He replies.
Thank you for letting me know. I’ll try to smooth things over with Felicity.
Irfan didn’t sign off with his name or ask what was wrong or wish me well getting better.
Shit. Of course. I was meant to attend a brainstorming meeting Felicity only holds twice a year where staff air their ideas on how to improve the company.
I sigh and change into my pyjamas and crawl back to bed. Is this what a duvet day is? I’ve never had one before.
I lay there, stomach gurgling. I placate it by drinking a glass of water. My phone bleeps. It’s a text from Casey asking me how my pub meal went. I can’t face replying at the moment. I just want to be on my own where no one can see me and put pressure on to eat or not eat. I fall into fitful sleep and am woken up several hours later when Flossie jumps onto the bed.
She reaches my neck and gently pats my mouth with her paw.
‘I’m sorry, Flossie,’ I whisper, ‘if I’ve neglected you over recent weeks. I’ve just been busy, trying to move my life forwards. Do you miss Lenny?’
Flossie closes her eyes as I tickle behind her eyes.
‘I don’t. Not anymore, but I do miss the comfort of having someone in my bed. I miss being held in front of the telly. I miss holding hands as I walk along the street. But most of all, I miss feeling as if I am part of something that matters.’ I stop scratching her head. ‘I’m trying so hard to be the best possible version of myself – successful at work, be polished – but if I’m honest…’ My voice breaks. ‘It can be a lonely business. No one seems to get it apart from our new flatmate.’
The doorbell rings. I panic. Who is that? There was no way I can face seeing anyone. Not in this state. I get out of bed and wrap my dressing gown around me. I pad to the door. Perhaps they’ll go away.
I don’t want to see anyone.
I don’t want anyone to see me.
I don’t want to talk.
I don’t want to laugh and joke.
Go away.
Leave me alone.
I’m safer on my own. I can’t be judged. I can’t be hurt.
And even though I miss having a partner, I don’t need anyone.
‘It’s Kath. Open up, sweetheart.’
I stand statue still. However, at that moment, my phone rings. I grab it out of my dressing gown pocket and in a hurry drop it onto the floor. I bend over. It’s Casey. I switch it off.
‘Violet? I can hear you.’
I drag myself over to the door and open it. I stand back as Kath walks in, followed by Nora and Pauline carrying a wicker basket.
‘What’s all this?’ I ask.
‘We’re staging an intervention,’ says Nora.
Under any other circumstances, I would have laughed. Pauline puts the basket on the low coffee table and opens it.
‘Look, thanks, whatever this is, but—’
Kath raises her palms. ‘I’m sorry, Violet, but we’re not prepared to simply stand by and watch you cut yourself off from people who care. You not coming last night was the last straw.’
‘I’m fine; have never felt better.’
‘You don’t look it,’ said Pauline bluntly.
I shake my head. ‘All those months you let me go around looking like a scarecrow. I finally get my act together and that’s when you decide to intervene? I don’t get it.’ I look at Nora. ‘Especially you, who is such a big fan of so many fashion-conscious celebrities and love following them on social media. Why can’t you at least recognise that I’m simply trying to improve myself like… like your favourite Kardashians?’
‘But they’ve got curves, Violet. Boobs and bums, like you used to. And they’re celebrities, a spectacle, not real people I care about. I hate to get personal, but you’re wasting away.’
‘And I’m sorry you’ve wasted a journey,’ I say stiffly. ‘But there is no cause for alarm.’
‘Aren’t you even going to ask us to stay for a cup of tea?’ says Kath and sits down on the sofa. She calls over Flossie, who looks happy that her day is turning out to be more exciting than of late.
‘Look,’ says Pauline and lifts up the lid of the basket. ‘We do want to support you, Violet. There’s only healthy stuff in here. Carrot sticks, wholemeal sandwiches, hummus dip and fruit. Let’s have lunch together. Talk about that brilliant book Vox.’
‘You should have rung. I appreciate it, honestly, but I’m not feeling well.’ Bella warned me once that envious friends might lace food like sandwiches with full-fat butter.
‘You won’t even let us stay to talk for a few minutes?’ said Kath. ‘Even the women in that book are allowed one hundred words.’
‘But what you’ve got to say won’t be that concise, will it?’
‘It could be,’ says Pauline. ‘I like a challenge.’ She fishes in her handbag for a notebook and gives everyone a sheet of paper. The three of them squeeze onto the sofa with faces as perplexed as mine.
‘Look – this is silly,’ I say. ‘Surely you’re not suggesting – there’s no need.’
‘I think there is,’ says Pauline. ‘And where’s the harm? We’ll tell you our concerns in as few a words as we can manage.’ She hands me a sheet. ‘You can tell us why we’re making a fuss over nothing.’
I shake my head. ‘This is ridiculous. Please. Just leave.’
‘We’re bloggers now, Violet,’ says Kath in a light tone. ‘We work best writing things down.’
‘And it sounds like fun,’ interrupts Nora.
The room falls silent. With a sigh I pick up a pen and paper. I sit down on the floor and start writing.
‘Me first,’ says Nora twenty minutes later. She stands up and clears her throat. I admire the burgundy trousers and orange checked top that, against all the odds, go well with her red hair. She reads out from her piece of paper.
‘Violet. I’ve always admired your unique sense of style. People laugh at my fur coat but I’m not bothered. And you used to be like that, dressing as you pleased without a care. At first I thought it was fun, your interest in fashion and hair – but now it’s taken a serious turn. Your great figure used to go in and out. Now it’s straight up and down. As for those gorgeous curls… Lenny has left the door open for a real man to stride in and win your heart. And he will. You don’t need to change one iota.’
She sits down on the sofa. Ever the romantic, what Nora doesn’t get is that my new image is to empower me as a woman. It’s not all about trying to hook a man.
Kath puts on her glasses. ‘What a difference you’ve made to my life, Violet. Helping me day-to-day. Laughing with me. Ferrying me around to appointments. You’re an angel I miss sharing cake with. A truly genuine person. That rare beast is difficult to find these days. During my years of nursing I’ve seen the damage, caused through many illnesses, by a lack of weight. Anaemia. Weak bones. Infertility. That’s where you are heading unless you realise this lifestyle is too extreme. The clothes, the hair, the make-up – that’s all good fun. But please don’t mess with your body.’ She takes her glasses off.
I realise I’ve folded my arms. Kath is speaking to me as if I’m a reckless child. I’d bet my life savings on the fact that my juiced breakfasts are healthier than her toast.
Pauline clears her throat. ‘Violet. The evidence is there that your makeover is damaging. You’re off work, for a start. You’ve cancelled meeting up with us. Your change in image is becoming more than a physical revolution. Be careful, love. Bella sounds great but try to be objective. Don’t be led astray. I know from my policing career that can so easily happen. Follow your own heart and the voice inside that tells you what is right and wrong. ’
Pauline is suggesting Bella is some sort of criminal?
‘How about you, Violet?’ says Kath. ‘You’ve written something too.’
Everything they’ve said confirms I’ve used the right words. My chest tightens as I look at my piece of paper and stand up. ‘I know you don’t mean to interfere but I’m an adult, not a child. Please don’t take offence but I suggest you are out of touch. Look in any magazine. My size is not uncommon. Times have moved on. My cholesterol level must have drastically fallen. I can run up the stairs. Bella empowered me not to collapse in a heap when Lenny left. I wish you could be more supportive but you don’t understand. Therefore I suggest we take a break. Nothing in life stays the same. That includes looks, relationships – and friendships.’
I fold up the note. Nora opens her mouth but after a look from Kath it shuts. The three of them stare for a moment as if willing me to take back what I said. Instead I lean forwards and close the lid on the basket.
‘Thanks for caring,’ I say. ‘And I’ll keep reading your blog. I’m really proud of how hard you’ve all worked. I’ve not missed a post and don’t intend to. And any problems you have, just email me. I’m still happy to help online. But at this point, being in your company is doing more harm than good, and you are very capable of running the book club on your own.’
‘Perhaps it’s for the best,’ says Nora flatly. ‘That’s the first time I’ve ever felt my age in your company.’
Kath pushes herself to her feet. The others follow. I open the door and they file out.