Waiting

That sounds like the postman. More brown envelopes I suppose. The invitation might be there though. It’s the company dinner and dance in three weeks. I wish I was going with Paul Douglas.
He wouldn’t ask me though, it would be more likely Stephanie Dawson, she’s his type. An hour glass figure, glossy chestnut hair, PA to the Managing Director. As the advert goes, ‘if you can pinch more than an inch.’ There are places on Stephanie where you can pinch a lot more, but they’re the right places. I saw her once at Mario’s Health Spa. He boasted, ‘Let me bring out the Latin lover in you.’ I’d mistakenly thought that paying an expert I might lose a stone or two. It was only my bank balance that lost pounds though. I think she was just topping up her tan. I couldn’t think of any other reason for her to be there.

Oh look, two brown letters and a cream-coloured one from Auntie Rose. I can recognise her writing from a hundred yards. I suppose it’ll be her usual monthly invitation for tea and chocolate cake.

I’m trying to lose weight Auntie, I’d say, time is getting short. Bridget Jones’s clock began ticking in her thirties. I’m nearly 46.

“Who’s Bridget Jones dear?” she’d say. “Someone from the office?”

I won’t open it yet - maybe later. No dinner ticket - perhaps it’ll come second post.

I wouldn’t need to worry about the dance if Paul was here. I’d be filling the kettle with double the amount of water - and taking four sausages out of the freezer. Instead of scratching behind my ear, I’d be dabbing channel no.9 there. I can’t understand why he isn’t? I keep the flat clean, the cupboards well-stocked and the bed is comfortable. I can imagine his handsome head, with its dark features, nestled into his pillow. Then he turns, and using just his teeth, he plucks a grape from where I’d placed it in my cleavage...Oh Paul.

No use putting the telly on this time of the morning. There’ll only be some fitness guru stepping up and down with a chorus of nubile, slim young things, copying him. Then the advert will be for Kelloggs Special K, followed by a free introductory voucher for weight watchers. I’ve tried them all. I got sick of Nu-Plan, up to my eyes with All-Bran and tried living on bananas. If you’re big - you’re big. There’s no getting away from it.

Maybe I’m wrong about Paul, what if he likes larger ladies? I read somewhere that it’s an attraction in Turkey. Over there the women make themselves big - voluptuous even - like me. I wonder if Paul has been there on holiday? Perhaps, if he was here, I should put the grape in my belly button and wiggle? If all else fails, I could pack my bags and go and live there. The thing is, I wouldn’t be too keen on their toilet arrangements and I’ve tried the coffee - it’s awful.
I must stop thinking about him. I’m only fooling myself. He wouldn’t contemplate anyone like me - no one does.

The closest I came to having a boyfriend was almost 12 years ago now. Joe Morris his name was. He worked in maintenance. He wasn’t as good looking and sophisticated as Paul, but he made me laugh and asked me out. I wasn’t very sensible in those days, I should’ve been more wary, but I was flattered by his attention. It didn’t happen often. Anyway he had a lot to drink and on the way to the taxi rank he pulled me into an alley. He kissed me, which apart from the alcohol smell was nice, then he tried to lift my skirt. I smacked his face and ran. I found out later, there was a bet on who would be the easiest to sleep with, I was odds on favourite. They hadn’t taken Paul into their calculations. He’d just started as a rep. There was no contest.

The kettle began to whistle and then the phone rang, it was Sarah. We got on well. She didn’t have any problem getting men. She was a size 12 and where she was 14 or 16 the men liked it. When the salesmen came into the typing pool with their expenses, they’d give them to me and chat to Sarah.

She sounded excited.

“I saw Paul Douglas last night. You’ll never guess where?”

“Where?”

“He was in the Trocadero car park, in his car.”

“Yes Sarah - So?”

“He was kissing Joe Morris.”