Michele Gorman - The Curvy Girls Club

‘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 could set up a Facebook page to tell the others,’ Jane said. ‘At the meeting next week we’d just need to tell them to like the page.’

‘What about people who don’t use Facebook?’ Rob asked, 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.