Chapter Twenty-five #2
‘She sure is and she brings gifts,’ I said.
‘I’ve got three feather boas and Post-its or laces for the beak.
Wow, people are really going for it!’ I looked around the room at the different teams and their dressing-up efforts.
One cockerel was covered in a black blanket, another was wrapped in bin liners, with beaks made out of pegs, pencils and rubber ducks, and legs wrapped up in cling film.
Dahlia was blasting out a chicken-themed playlist, and we all did the actions to ‘The Birdie Song’ as we worked.
‘This is lookin’ fine y’all,’ Brooke said, as we made her up. I wound the feather boas around her legs and stuck the Post-its on her nose. The three of us kept adding to our creation, sticking bits on to create a very avant-garde version of the famous Portuguese cockerel.
‘I’d say we’ve given more of an overall flavour than a replica image,’ Leo said, as the three of us stood back to admire our handiwork.
Zach took a couple of photos and Brooke squealed with laughter when she saw the state of herself.
‘I think she likes it,’ I said.
‘Seems that way,’ Zach agreed.
‘Like it? I love it! This is going to be my new look. Animal vibes.’
‘And antacids on tap,’ Leo said. ‘The ultimate business outfit.’
‘Time is UP, ladies and gentlemen,’ Dahlia shouted, sounding the Klaxon again. ‘Dressers, please finish whatever it is you are doing and then can all cockerels make their way to the front here, and join me up on stage.’
Brooke shuffled forward and Leo and I fussed around her, smoothing down stray feathers and brushing on a final layer of bronzer.
‘Go forth and represent!’ Zach said and Brooke nodded.
‘I’ll try my best,’ she said, waddling off.
‘Winner, winner,’ I shouted.
‘Chicken dinner!’ we all chorused, repeating the chant as she followed the other cockerels onto the stage. Then we collapsed in our chairs to have a well-deserved rest.
‘Martinis for the workers?’ A waiter came over with a tray-full as Dahlia got back on the microphone.
‘We have twenty wonderful cocks to choose from,’ she shouted.
‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ Barb called from the back of the stage.
‘Well done, all of you. You’ve done a fantastic job. And as we all know, it’s not the winning but the taking part that counts.’
‘Boooooo!’ Barbie Queue appeared behind Dahlia and the cocks. ‘What are you on about, you? We’re innit to winnit – am I right?’
‘Yessss!’ everyone shouted in glee.
‘We need a parade and a public vote, just like they do on Strictly, don’t we gang?’
The audience cheered and whistled.
‘Do you want a cock parade?’
‘Yessss!’
‘Subject to availability,’ Barb added, with her tongue in her cheek.
‘Alright then!’ Dahlia wailed. ‘Come on roosters, let’s see you STRUT.’
Madonna’s ‘Vogue’ kicked in and Dahlia ushered everyone to the back of the stage to wait their turn, before striding along the stage in her classic chicken costume to lots of whoops and applause.
Then Barbie Queue took another turn, freezing in different poses to show off her outfit, followed by each of the cockerels one by one.
Some walked, some danced, one punched his way along as a fighting cockerel, another ate a custard tart to prove he was Portuguese; all of them looked fabulous.
Brooke was last to go, and we clapped and cheered at the tops of our voices as she flapped her wings and waddled like a pigeon. We did our best to influence the clapometer, which seemed very hit and miss – and was really just Arlo pressing a button behind a curtain.
‘Thank you,’ Dahlia said, gathering all the contestants together to take a bow. ‘All of you. You are all winners in my eyes.’
Everyone cheered.
‘But there has to be an official winner for the grand prize and according to our clapometer the gold star Portuguese Cockerel prize goes to…’ she reached into the contestants and pulled out one of the cockerels to present to the audience ‘…you! Whoever you are!’
***
‘Give me an hour, then let yourself in,’ I whispered, slipping Heidi’s key into Leo’s pocket. I wanted our last night together to be extra special and I’d had an idea.
He gave me one of his dark, intense looks and I nearly forgot where I was. We’d give ourselves away if I sat here much longer. I’d give us away. ‘I’m not sure I can wait,’ he said.
‘Try,’ I murmured. ‘It’ll be worth it.’
The pull between us felt stronger than ever, and I found it difficult to physically draw myself away. ‘Night, both,’ I called to Zach and Brooke, who were deep in conversation, before speedwalking off down the corridor. I had to ready the room and myself, and even an hour was cutting it tight.
I dragged both mattresses onto the floor bringing the pillows and the blankets down with them, fluffing them all up to make a cute floor bed.
The two strawberry-shaped tap lamps gave a soft light from on top of the bed frame, and I spritzed the air with some perfume.
It wasn’t the Four Seasons, but it could almost pass as a double futon in a cosy studio apartment, if we half-closed our eyes.
Anything was better than another night in the bunk.
That tangled-up sweatbox was fun as a one-off but as a romantic experiment it was not to be repeated.
My battery was dead again, but my inner clock told me I had at least another half hour, so I plugged in my phone to charge, had a long shower and put on the one decent set of underwear I’d brought with me.
I spritzed my hair with sea salt and gave it a good brush.
Mum always said if I brushed it one hundred times, the blonde would turn to gold.
Which wasn’t entirely false, as it was always much shinier by the time I’d finished.
Although I think her source was Rapunzel.
I twisted it into a long plait and would shake it all out once Leo arrived. The original non-heat beach waves.
Were heels too much? It was our last night after all…
I popped on a pair of wedges to give myself some height, then did a full face of make-up including false eyelashes.
And then worried I’d overdone it. I sprayed perfume onto the bed sheets, with another spritz into the air for good measure, then wafted it about.
It must have been another thirty minutes by now…
I slathered my arms and legs in a citrus moisturiser and reapplied my lipstick.
My phone was still black. I needed a new one; the battery was forever powering down when I needed it most. There was so little space in the room that it was easiest to sit on the floor in my new bed.
Leaning against the bunk bed ladder in my underwear while I waited was far too weird.
Leo would be biding his time, so as not to be too obvious.
Keeping up the ruse. He had a key, so he’d get here when he could, I’d just have to be patient.
I put the radio on for some mood music and lay down in the bed, which was surprisingly snuggly.
Having the weight of both duvets and the softness of two pillows made all the difference.
It was warm and comfortable, and a wave of tiredness hit me as soon as I lay down; I was zonked from running around all day.
I’d just rest my eyes for a second or two, maybe even have a power nap to recharge. Leo could wake me up when he got here.