raising his hand. For an IT programmer he was remarkably unconnected in cyberspace. Even I used Facebook and my computer skills peaked before Jedward could drive.
‘We could make a simple website,’ he proposed. ‘We could even do one on Blogger. It’s free.’
‘When you say we,’ I began.
‘I mean me,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry. I wouldn’t make you step out of your comfort zone. I know you only use your computer to read celebrity gossip. I can knock up a website at work in just a few minutes. I’d be happy to.’
‘It would be good, right, to make it official?’ Jane said. ‘I have felt like I’ve been part of something these past few months. Like we’re stronger together when we go out.’
‘I feel normal,’ said Pixie quietly. ‘For the first time in years I’m not the freak with the elastic waistband. We’re all the freaks with the elastic waistbands. There’s safety in numbers.’
‘Exactly.’ Ellie nodded, her hair flying over her eyes. ‘I don’t feel self-conscious. Just … normal. That feels so good.’
‘That’s because we are the norm here,’ Pixie said. ‘Actually we’re the norm out there too. You’ve seen the news; most people are overweight. It just doesn’t seem like it, looking around. Maybe it’s time to be loud and proud.’
‘The Loud and Proud Club,’ Rob said, raising his glass. ‘You’ll need a name for the website.’
‘The Loud and Proud Club sounds like a gay band,’ Pixie said. ‘What about the Loud Proud Social Club? Then you know what we are.’
‘Now it sounds like a gay social club,’ I said.
‘The Big Girls Social Club?’ Jane proposed.
Ooh, I liked that very much.
‘What about big boys?’ Rob said. ‘Don’t be sexist.’
‘But you’re like a girl,’ Ellie said.
‘Thank you for emasculating me.’
‘I just mean that you’re a friend, like us girls,’ she clarified. ‘What about the Big Boned Social Club?’
‘God, no,’ Pixie winced. ‘That’s what people call you when they think they’re being nice. It makes me think of women shot-putters. Besides, not everyone who’s fat is big-boned. Some of us are just curvy.’
‘The Curvy Girls Club?’ Jane proposed.
A tremor of enthusiasm coursed through me. The Curvy Girls Club. That was it. ‘I love it!’
‘Me too!’
‘But it’s not just for women, right?’ Ellie asked, glancing quickly at Rob.
‘No way, everyone is welcome,’ Jane said. ‘That’s the whole point.’
‘Do we need to account for that in the title, then?’ I asked.
Pixie laughed. ‘Katie, you’re in sales. Since when are you worried about a little thing like accuracy?’ She thought for a moment. ‘We can put a little asterisk in the title and add a disclaimer in tiny writing at the bottom, like they do with payday loans and volumising mascara.’
‘Problem solved then,’ I said. ‘We’re the Wonga of social clubs. Rob, you’ll join us, right?’
He grinned. ‘Sure. Only I probably won’t tell people I’m a member of the Curvy Girls Club. Maybe the CGC. That sounds much manlier.’
Jane lifted her drink. ‘To the Curvy Girls Club.’
‘Asterisk … and men!’ said Rob.
We all raised our glasses to our new club. I hadn’t been so excited since my Rory days, and this didn’t even involve the potential for sex.
My friends placed great trust in me and once we were officially a club, the planning seemed doubly important. Besides, Rob made good on his threat and created a website that would feature our nights out. Plus, everyone who’d gone to the salsa lesson wanted to know what was next. So no pressure then.
Luckily I talked on the phone for a living, so nobody noticed the dozens of calls I made to help figure out whether events and venues would be suitable for our members. It took a lot longer than I imagined but by the end of the week we’d added half a dozen events to the website and Facebook page.
Funny how quickly perspectives can change. It was probably a similar feeling to that experienced by the newly engaged or pregnant, who suddenly notice things like bridal shops and stretch-mark creams for the first time. Those were still off my radar but every theatre marquee, restaurant review and band poster sparked my interest. I went to bed each night thinking about possible events. And I awoke every morning with excitement gently fizzing in my tummy.
The next few weeks flew by in a whirlwind of activity. One minute we were dancing salsa with friends, the next we were organising nights out for more than fifty people, and getting bollocked for not doing enough. Speaking for myself, anyway.
‘I did try to book,’ said the woman with her arms crossed over her ample bosom as we waited for Pam to start the Slimming Zone meeting. She was acting like I’d purposely kept her from seeing Jersey Boys with us. ‘I got an error message saying that it was sold out.’
I could tell from the consternation lining her over-tanned face that she wasn’t going to let it go. I tried again. ‘I’m really sorry. We’ve been getting a lot of interest in the theatre. If you try booking a bit earlier next time …’
‘I know some people are bringing their friends. That’s why there wasn’t room for me. That’s not right when I’m a member here.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said again. ‘But the events aren’t just for Slimming Zone members. In fact we don’t have members. They’re for anyone who wants to come.’
Her sense of entitlement really pissed me off. The Curvy Girls Club was ours. She was lucky we’d opened it up to other people at all.
I looked across the room at Jane and Ellie as they laughed with a group of women who’d come with us to Kew Gardens last weekend. Jane was awkwardly accepting a compliment on the club’s behalf. So how did I end up as head of the Complaints Department?
‘Excuse me a minute,’ I said to the whinger, cutting her off mid-indignation. ‘I think Jane wants a word with me.’
‘Fiona was just telling us about a Thames river cruise,’ she said when I approached. ‘Some of the boats have Dixieland jazz bands. Doesn’t that sound fun?’ I hadn’t seen Jane so animated in a long time. She’d even abandoned her needles and yarn for this conversation.
I nodded, already thinking about the questions I’d ask the organisers – how big are the life jackets? Are there many steps? Will people be helped onto/off the boat? I could make a few calls tomorrow
