Chapter 23
‘You really are my fairy godmother,’ said Stacey when she pulled the door open to Diane at 5 p.m. on the night of the Christmas ball. Diane was clutching several coat hangers over her shoulder and holding an enormous make-up box. Stacey felt her heart leap in excitement.
‘No need to thank me,’ said Diane, pushing past her into her tiny hall, long gowns in billowing dry cleaning plastic trailing behind her. ‘I was thinking about this all weekend. It’s kept me going. Now where can I set up?’
‘Set up?’
‘My mirror and make-up case. We need some good light. Yes, in here is perfect. Hello, young lady,’ Diane said to Grace as she piled into the lounge. ‘Want to help me set up a make-up station in here?’
‘Absolutely,’ said Grace, leaping off the sofa where she had been watching cartoons. ‘Are you a real fairy godmother,’ she said, eyeing up the dresses draped over her arm. ‘You look like a fairy godmother.’
‘Does that just mean I look old?’ asked Diane, draping the gowns over the back of the sofa.
‘Erm, I’d say glamorous old,’ replied Grace.
‘Grace!’ said Stacey.
Diane laughed. ‘Do you know what, I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, why don’t you go and try on some of these, Stacey, and me and Grace will tell you which one to wear.’
‘Don’t I get to choose?’
‘Of course not, Mummy. You must let the fairy godmother choose, with my help, of course,’ said Grace.
‘OK,’ said Stacey, grinning and grabbing the dresses. ‘Give me a minute.’
‘I would offer you a cup of tea,’ said Grace to Diane, ‘except I’ve been told to not touch the kettle since I put my goldfish in it because it was shivering.’
‘Shivering?’ asked Diane.
‘Yeah, it was swimming all wobbly – you know, like he was shivering.’
‘What happened when you put it in the kettle?’
‘Well, I sort of forgot about it and the next morning Mum made a cup of tea and poured dead Fred into her mug. She wasn’t happy.’
‘Was she fond of Fred?’
‘No, it just ruined her tea.’
‘OK then, great,’ said Diane. ‘I’ll pass on the tea, I think. Ah, here she is.’
‘That’s a no, then,’ said Grace as Stacey appeared in the doorway.
‘Hang on,’ said Diane, approaching Stacey. ‘Actually, I think your daughter is right but only because, as expected, you’re slimmer than me so you need to try the more fitted dresses, the ones I wear need some serious body-shaping underwear underneath in order for me to get into them, although you’ll be absolutely fine. Go and put the red one on. It looks tiny but there’s plenty of stretch. And it’s short but not too short, especially with your legs.’
‘I’ve seen that one – there’s no way I’ll fit in that,’ said Stacey.
‘Trust me, if I can get in it, you can. Off you go.’
Diane and Grace settled down on the sofa to wait. Grace switched the telly on again and they watched a cartoon, enjoying it so much that they didn’t spot Stacey when she first came to the door. She had to step in front of the TV.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Diane. ‘Now that’s much better. How do you feel?’
Stacey grinned. ‘I like it. Sexy and sophisticated. I think this is perfect. I think this is the sort of thing that other women will be wearing, don’t you?’
‘I don’t like it,’ said Grace, folding her arms in a sulk.
‘Why not?’ said Diane.
‘I don’t want to say.’
‘But she looks super in it. Your mum has an amazing figure. She should show it off.’
‘No, she shouldn’t.’
‘Why not?’
Grace looked up at Diane. ‘Because Will will want to kiss her and stuff, and I don’t want him to kiss her.’
Diane glanced at Stacey. Stacey shrugged.
‘How do you feel in that dress?’ she asked Stacey.
‘I feel really good.’
Diane nodded. She looked back at Grace. ‘You know, Grace, you’re absolutely right, you shouldn’t wear clothes for other people. But your mum feels good in this so I think that maybe we should let her decide what she wants to wear?’
‘Are you saying that as a fairy godmother?’ asked Grace.
Diane thought for a moment. ‘Such a good question. Do you mean, what would a fairy godmother say to wear?’
‘Exactly,’ replied Grace.
Diane looked over at Stacey, who looked expectant.
‘Do you know, I think a true fairy godmother would say don’t wear something too short.’
Stacey looked at Diane quizzically.
‘Just a hunch,’ said Diane. ‘A fairy godmother would suggest a longer gown, more elegant and easier to wear. I mean, I know I spend half the night when I’m wearing that dress tugging it down – now what’s the point in that? Go put the silver full-length one on and let’s see what happens.’
‘If you’re sure?’ mumbled Stacey, turning round.
‘Good decision.’ Grace nodded at Diane.
Eventually Stacey came to the door for the third time, just as all the Christmas ads came on TV. Grace and Diane looked up and both gasped.
‘That’s the one,’ nodded Diane. ‘That dress says that Will needs to take you to meet his parents before he tries anything on. The red one just screamed, take me now!’
‘I agree,’ nodded Grace.
‘What do you think?’ Diane asked Stacey.
Stacey nodded, her eyes slightly glossy. ‘I feel amazing. I never thought I could look like this. I look like a grown-up. Like a princess.’
‘Right,’ said Diane, ‘come and sit down and let’s put some grown-up make-up on you. So I think a touch of sparkle is in order, don’t you?’ She picked up a couple of eyeshadows and showed them to Grace. ‘This one or this one?’
Grace considered them both carefully, then looked at her mum. ‘Pink sparkle,’ she said seriously. ‘I don’t think Mum can carry off the purple.’
Diane was really enjoying herself. It reminded her of playing dressing up with Chloe when she was young. It was probably her favourite mother-daughter time. Pity Chloe didn’t want to spend that time with her mother now. She’d barely seen her since she’d been home, she’d been so busy showing her new boyfriend off to her friends.
‘OK,’ said Diane, taking a deep breath and preparing to create. ‘We’ll base the make-up around that pink eyeshadow.’ She figured her love of make-up and dressing up came from her performing days. Getting ready to go out for an evening was just the same as preparing for the stage, really. In Stacey’s case it was the grand stage of Will’s glamorous office Christmas party. Quite an intimidating stage, when Diane thought about it. To go somewhere where you didn’t know anyone apart from the person you were with, to perform as the perfect girlfriend – now, that took some doing. Diane had done it many times for her husband. Accompanied him to industry gatherings as his wife. It was a tough gig. Being somewhere because of someone else and not in your own right. Not that she had done it recently, she recollected. Perhaps the industry events had dried up or perhaps Leon had just stopped inviting her.
‘Close your eyes,’ she said to Stacey.
Stacey closed her eyes and Diane looked at the canvas. She saw a young woman in her prime. She saw none of the lines that had appeared on her own face over the last few years. She saw fresh blooming skin. She saw how her face used to look: smooth, glowing and line free. She saw lustrous dark hair with no hint of grey. She saw everything she used to be and now wasn’t. Perhaps that was why Leon had been tempted elsewhere. Was it a fresh-faced younger model who had been drawn to his distinguished looks? It hardly ever happened the other way round, did it? The fresh-faced young man drawn to the laughter lines of the older woman. The face worn by time and stress and the difficulties that life throws at you. Looking at Stacey reminded her of looking in the mirror all those years ago, full of life and promise and optimism, and now here she was on the other side, wondering what had happened to that feeling.
Diane got to work but really it took no time at all. It was amazing how much quicker it was to make a line-free face look dazzling. She added the final touch of lip gloss and then handed Stacey a mirror.
‘I think you’ll be the belle of the ball,’ she said with a sigh, noting Stacey’s delight.
‘Wow,’ Stacey said, turning her head left and right to look from all angles. ‘I actually look, well, very glamorous and sophisticated. You’re a miracle worker, Diane. Truly.’
‘You’re glamorous, full stop. You just needed me to bring it out.’ Diane could almost feel herself tearing up at the sight of Stacey’s excitement. How she longed to be in her shoes again. ‘Any man would be proud to have you on their arm.’
‘Really?’
‘God, yeah.’
‘But this party is bound to be full of really glamorous women, right? Bankers have tiny blond girlfriends, don’t they? Not mums with scars and worry lines!’
Diane shook her head. Why did women always see themselves and their bodies in a bad light? Always. Why did they compare themselves constantly? What was the point? All Diane could see was a beautiful, smart young woman, and all Stacey could see was someone who had already failed at life. Instead, she had her whole life ahead of her. If only, thought Diane.
‘My mother would hate this dress,’ said Stacey.
‘Why?’ asked Diane.
‘She’d say it was flashy, way too flashy.’
‘I don’t see flashy,’ said Diane. ‘I see … I see you … a young woman with her whole life ahead of her, looking stunning, but knowing there’s a whole load of stuff inside of her that is so worth everyone’s while. Someone who could do anything she wanted to if she put her mind to it.’
Stacey stared back at her open mouthed. ‘I bet you’re an amazing mum,’ she said.
Diane laughed. ‘No idea,’ she replied. ‘Currently my daughter doesn’t seem to want to be anywhere near me, so you tell me. She’s even ditched me for Christmas. The new boyfriend’s family is much more appealing, apparently. Christmas Day is going to be dire.’
‘She must be mad,’ said Stacey. ‘I’d give anything to be with a mother who wanted to be with me at Christmas. All I get is disapproving looks and requests for handouts. I wish I had an excuse not to see her at Christmas.’
‘Christmas can bring out the worst in families,’ said Diane.
‘It so can. It would just be nice to spend it with someone I actually cared about and who cared about me. Still, that’s Christmas, I suppose. At least I’ve got this ball to go to. I’ll just have to spend Christmas Day trying to remember what a fabulous time I had with my Prince Charming.’
Diane nodded. Diane really hoped she had a good time. And she prayed that this guy really did turn out to be Prince Charming. She was worried Stacey had way too much riding on him and it would inevitably be him that would let her down.
Grace wandered back in, chocolate biscuit in hand. She gaped when she saw her mum fully made up and hair in an updo.
‘You look amazing, Mum,’ she said. Then she let out a deep sigh. ‘Just make sure he’s worth it.’
Diane had to agree with this very wise seven-year-old. She’d performed her role very well as the fairy godmother. Perhaps too well. She’d swooped in and transformed Cinderella so she was ready to go to the ball and attract Prince Charming, because obviously Prince Charming was only going to be attracted to someone who looked like a princess and not a scruffy scullery maid, despite the fact that they were exactly the same person.
Bloody Cinderella, thought Diane. Fairy-tale claptrap that teaches all girls they must be beautiful and they must spend their lives trying to get a man to fall in love with them. That is the main objective in life. Forget all your other achievements. Forget all your other wonderful traits. No, to be loved by a man is your highest accolade.
Diane could feel her blood starting to boil as she looked at Stacey. Stacey deserved love – of course she did – but not the desperate kind she was possibly seeking. Not the ‘take anyone who will have me’ kind of love. Not the ‘anything is better than being alone’ kind of love. She deserved the real deal. The two-way street. The non-compromising, ‘take me as I am’ kind of love.
Stacey was gathering her things now. She was picking up a black leather bag that she used for everyday in the office, which didn’t match her outfit at all. Diane reached down for the sequin-covered clutch she had bought specifically to go with the outfit Stacey was wearing.
She offered it to her, but grabbed her hand as she reached out to take it.
‘Listen to your daughter,’ said Diane. ‘Be sure he’s worth it, be sure he’s worth you. Be sure you’re not just choosing bad company over no company. Be sure he sees you, Stacey. Smart woman, diligent colleague, wonderful mother, not just a pretty woman in a sparkly dress.’ She let go of her hand.
Stacey looked a little startled but she nodded. Diane prayed she had listened.
‘Can I just say you’re the best fairy godmother I have ever met,’ added Grace.
‘Met many, have you?’ asked Diane.
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ said Grace.
As if totally on cue the doorbell rang.
‘Your carriage awaits?’ asked Diane.
Stacey glanced at her watch.
‘No, actually. Yang, I hope,’ she replied.
‘Yay,’ replied Grace, dashing to the door.
‘Such a great idea of Yang’s to babysit as his Secret Santa,’ said Diane. ‘Wish I could think of something that good.’
‘Well, yeah,’ said Stacey. ‘It’s very kind of him.’
‘Hi,’ said Yang as he dumped white plastic carrier bags on the coffee table.
‘Did you bring those cracker things?’ asked Grace, diving into one of the bags.
‘Yeees,’ said Yang.
‘I’ll get some plates and stuff. You said you’d teach me to use chopsticks this time.’ Grace careered out of the room.
Diane watched as Yang noticed Stacey was all dressed up.
‘Wow,’ he said, looking genuinely stunned. ‘You look amazing. Like … yeah … great.’
‘Thanks,’ blushed Stacey. ‘All Diane’s work. She’s a marvel. There was no way I could scrub up like this without her.’
Yang looked at her. ‘You always look great,’ he said. ‘Always.’
Stacey hesitated. ‘Thank you, Yang,’ she replied.
‘It’s true.’ He shrugged again, then wandered into the kitchen after Grace.
‘We need a lot of kitchen roll if I’m teaching you chopsticks,’ they heard him say to Grace. ‘Or do you have a dog?’
‘In a flat!’ replied Grace. ‘Dogs don’t do lifts.’
‘Fair point. Better get the kitchen roll out, then.’
Diane looked at Stacey. She couldn’t believe how at home Yang appeared to be in Stacey’s flat and how relaxed he was with Grace.
‘They get on well,’ she said, indicating the pair in the kitchen.
‘Oh God, yeah, Grace never stops talking about him,’ said Stacey. ‘She adores him.’
Yang and Grace arrived back in the lounge, clutching plates and kitchen roll.
‘Don’t you need to go now?’ asked Grace.
‘Yes,’ said Diane. ‘You’re right. I have a hot date with the remote control.’ She began to gather up her things.
‘Will’s coming here and we’re getting a black cab into town,’ said Stacey.
As if on cue, almost as though they were in a pantomime, the doorbell chimed stage left.
Grace booed in much the same way as someone would if Cinderella’s evil stepmum had just arrived.
Diane watched Yang smirk at Grace.
Stacey brought Will into the lounge whilst she collected her things. He stood in the doorway and jiggled his keys in his pocket, glaring at Yang, whilst Yang glared back. He did look extremely handsome. Diane could totally understand why Stacey was swept away by him. His tuxedo was immaculate, with elegant silk lapels matching his silk black tie. He was clean shaven and his hair was coiffured to within an inch of its life. His expensive aftershave was making its way into Diane’s nostrils and she could almost feel herself swoon.
‘This is Diane, my boss,’ said Stacey. ‘She came over to lend me a dress and do my hair and make-up, because, well, she does sophisticated, which I’ve never been much good at.’
Diane watched as Will looked Stacey up and down then turned to Diane.
‘Decent,’ he said. ‘Thanks for that. Shall we go?’ he said to Stacey.
Diane held her breath as Stacey paused for a split second, maybe waiting for a compliment to be directed at her but it never came.
‘You go,’ said Diane. ‘I’ll see myself out. Go on. Your taxi will be waiting.’
‘OK, right, bye then. Bed at eight, Grace. Thanks, Yang. You’re one in a million.’
‘Have a good time,’ he replied, but Stacey had slammed the door behind her. She was already gone.