the stage, but my sides ached from laughing (and my boobs hurt).
‘So we just meet once or twice a week to do something fun,’ I explained when Jane finished recounting the night.
‘That sounds like a club to me,’ Rob said.
Ellie laughed. ‘A club of four. We don’t exactly need to hire out the O2 for our annual conference.’
‘So it’s very exclusive,’ he said amiably.
‘I suppose not,’ Jane said. ‘We haven’t really discussed whether more people could come along …?’
‘The more the merrier,’ I said. ‘Depending on what we’re doing.’
‘I agree,’ said Ellie. ‘But we’d want to check with Pixie too, in case she’d rather stick to just us four.’
Rob smiled at her apologetic look. ‘Where is Pixie?’
‘She quit.’
He considered this for a moment. ‘Good for her. She hasn’t seemed happy here for a while. Make sure it’s okay with Pixie and if everyone agrees then I’m sure the others would love to join you. The rumour mill has been grinding. They think you’ve been out on champagne-soaked excursions. Amanda said she heard you went to Monaco.’
‘Ha! We’ve gone to Hackney,’ I said. ‘It sounds like we’ve got a lot to live up to.’
Rob suddenly looked bashful. ‘If it’s not an all-girls’ club, maybe I could come along too?’
‘It’s not a club!’
‘I suppose it could be a club though,’ Ellie said. ‘Would you want to come out with us, Rob?’ I could see her eyes asking us if that was all right.
‘Fine with me,’ I said.
‘Me too,’ said Jane. ‘Rob, I’d love for you to join us.’
‘Then we just need to see if Pixie objects.’
Pixie didn’t object. In fact she thought it was a marvellous idea to welcome everyone. Which was how we found ourselves dancing salsa with two dozen other Slimming Zone friends in the back room of my local pub the following Sunday afternoon.
The pub landlord was more than happy for us to work up a thirst in his otherwise dead pub, and there were plenty of out-of-work salsa instructors in London to choose from. I explained that what we lacked in fitness we’d make up for in enthusiasm, and everyone pitched in five quid to pay Ricco the Snake-Hipped Wonder.
‘I haven’t laughed that hard since Trevor did a headstand in the lounge on a piece of Lego.’ Pixie laughed again at the thought. ‘Pure comedy genius, though he obviously didn’t see the humour.’
Pixie didn’t often talk about Trevor without swearing. ‘You sounded almost fond of Trevor when you said that.’
‘Did I? It must be the wine. Although he has been rather fond of me lately.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘He’s become a randy old git. It’s all I can do to keep out of his reach.’
‘Well, you are in separate bedrooms,’ I pointed out. ‘Can’t you just lock your door?’
She smiled at me. ‘Dear, innocent Katie, so much to learn. The trick to a happy marriage is—’
‘But you don’t have a happy marriage,’ Jane said.
‘The trick to a marriage, then, is to make the man think he’s getting what he wants, when in actual fact, you’re getting what you want.’
‘Oh really?’ I said. ‘And how are you making him think he’s having sex with you?’ This ought to be good.
‘I’m making him think I want to have sex with him. It’s nearly as good. He’s usually so pissed when he comes home that if I can stall him, he forgets what he’s after. Then I tell him in the morning, just before he has to leave for work, when the children are still at home, that I went into his room but he was asleep. That way he can’t try for a quickie.’
She looked very pleased with herself.
‘How long do you think you can keep that up?’ Ellie asked.
‘Hopefully until I hit menopause. Oh, thanks, love,’ she said to Rob as he set our drinks down. ‘Ellie, I’ve got to say, you were busting some moves in there. It’s like there’s sangria in your blood.’
Ellie stopped fanning herself with her beer mat. ‘You are joking!’
Pixie nodded that yes, she was joking. ‘Love, you’ve got dos left feet.’
‘How would you know? You were too busy staring at the instructor’s crotch to notice anybody’s feet.’
She shrugged. ‘Didn’t he look like he had a nice chorizo?’
‘Please stop,’ Jane said. ‘You’ll put me off my drink.’
‘The thought of chorizo probably makes you want to poo.’ Pixie poked her side at around intestine-level.
‘Not as much as the thought of you and that man’s chorizo,’ she said.
Amanda, one of the Slimming Zone veterans, sidled up to the table. ‘Katie, please say we can do this again! I feel … wonderful. Really, that was the most fun I’ve had in ages.’ Her round face glowed with exertion and happiness. ‘It doesn’t have to be dancing again. It can be anything, really, just count me in, okay? I’ve got to dash to pick up the children. Thanks again for including me. See you next week at the meeting!’
I recognised the feeling that swelled in me, though it wasn’t a common one. We’d pulled off a great event, if I did say so myself. Inside I was glowing with pride.
Amanda’s words were echoed by the others as they said their good-byes and rushed off for the rest of their Sunday afternoons.
‘I’d say your club is a success,’ said Rob.
‘It’s not a club!’ Jane and Ellie said together.
‘Maybe it could be though?’ I mused. ‘Why not? I mean, if we want others to join us anyway, then why not make it a club?’
‘That sounds very formal,’ Pixie said.
‘Well, I guess there’d be some organising to do, but I could do that … of course, we could all do it too.’
‘You did such a great job with this,’ Ellie said. ‘I’m happy to go along with whatever you plan. Unless you want me to help?’
‘Only if you want to,’ I said, realising how quickly the conversation was descending into ridiculously polite territory. ‘I could look into something for the next night out and we can decide who wants to plan after that.’
‘We
