Seventeen Years Ago
Fourteen weeks pregnant.
‘She’s up the duff.’
‘No way.’ The girl in a black grungy T-shirt stares openly towards me.
‘Fucking slapper.’
‘She’s fat to begin with, you’ll never tell.’
‘Yeah, she’ll end up like a beach ball.’
I cringe as the gaggle of girls sitting at the next table in Sullivans café cackle in bitchy laughter.
Reeni reaches across the table for my arm. ‘Don’t listen to that load of witches.’
I nod. It’s easier said than done, but I know Reeni has had loads of practice.
I recognise two of them from my English class and at least one from the year above me.
I look down at the straining button of my jeans and try to suck in my tummy.
It moves a little but not enough to make my jeans comfortable.
I scowl across at them to be met with more cruel sniggers.
‘You look fab. Ignore them.’
‘They’re right though, aren’t they? I’m only fourteen weeks in and I already feel fat.’ I stare at the square of gooey chocolatey brownie on the plate in front of me. Two weeks ago, I couldn’t face eating anything sweet and the smell of coffee knocked me sick. Now I can’t get enough chocolate.
‘Has your morning sickness gone?’
‘Seems to have done one. I’m piling on weight now instead.’ I sigh and push the plate full of brownie away from me. ‘Maybe I should start eating celery.’
‘You don’t look fat,’ Reeni says loyally.
‘These things are bloody enormous.’ I circle my hands in front of my boobs.
‘They’re not that big.’ But Reeni can’t keep a straight face. ‘Alright, they do look like they’re about to break free from your bra.’
I look down at the outline of four boobs through my straining T-shirt. ‘Mum gave me some money to get some maternity clothes.’ I screw up my face. ‘I’m going to get some normal stuff in bigger sizes though. That’ll be OK, won’t it? I’m going shopping with Shannon, are you sure you can’t come?’
‘Sorry. I’ve got something I need to do.’
‘What?’
For a split second, Reeni’s eyes narrow, then she’s back to her normal self. ‘Oh, something Mum wants me to help with at home. Clearing out the garage. She claims she can’t do it on her own because the junk is too heavy.’
‘What about the party later?’
Reeni shakes her head. ‘I can’t. I don’t know why you want to go there, with that lot.’
‘I never get invited to things and I want to feel normal for once. Try and forget this is happening.’ I waggle my T-shirt. ‘I’ll be too fat to do anything normal soon.’
Going with Reeni would be far better, but I don’t want to be the odd one out. The one everyone points at and talks about. If I go to Shannon’s party later, they’ll see I’m still me. I can fit in.
‘Can I still tell my parents I’m coming round to yours and staying the night? If I tell them I’m going to a house party, they’ll never let me go.’
‘Yeah, course. I’ll make sure the back door is open.’ Reeni opens her mouth to continue then pauses. ‘How’s your dad?’
I swing my eyes to the ceiling. ‘Fuming. I swear I thought he was going to belt me when Mum told him. She had to get in between us.’
Reeni’s eyes widen. ‘Shit.’
‘Mum bought me this really cute giraffe night light for the room we’re doing up at Jackson’s, though.
I’ve hidden it at the back of my wardrobe.
’ I bite down on my tongue. My parents are opposite ends of the scale at the moment.
Dad can’t bear to look at me, but Mum, with encouragement from Sophie, is all on board. ‘Do you think he’ll ever forgive me?’
‘Course he will.’ She leans towards me and drops her voice. ‘I bet it was the shock. He’s bound to come around. He can’t never talk to you again.’
The group of girls leave the table next to us and I visibly exhale. ‘What do you think I should buy to wear tonight?’
Reeni shrugs. ‘Get something you’re comfortable in. You’ve got good taste. Don’t get anything frumpy or those hyenas will tear you apart.’
I feel dowdy sitting next to Shannon on the train to Poole.
I’ve got black leggings on because they have an elasticated waist and my huge maroon sweatshirt to hide all my lumps and bumps.
In contrast, she’s wearing skinny jeans tucked into trendy platform boots.
A tight bright yellow T-shirt which is cinched in with a wide black belt to accentuate her already tiny waist. And she’s finished the lot with huge oversized dark sunglasses.
‘I got them last week. They’re knock-offs to look like the ones Angelina Jolie was wearing. You can’t tell though, can you?’ She touches the side of her glasses and tilts her chin up for me to admire them.
’They’re fab,’ I gush, glad I’ve left my cheap black plastic ones in my bag.
‘Right. What shops do you want to go to?’ She looks pointedly at my hidden middle. ‘I’m not sure where you shop when you’re pregnant. Do you know?’
I shake my head. ‘Oh, I don’t need to go to any special shops. I can get bigger sizes. It’ll be fine.’
‘That’s great then. Still coming to my party, aren’t you? What are you wearing?’
‘I don’t really have anything.’ I think back to my wardrobe at home. There’s definitely nothing in it I could go to a party in. Especially now. ‘I thought I’d get something today.’
Shannon claps her hands together. ‘Great. I know exactly where we’ll go then. We’ll make you look amazing.’
I let her lead the way as she pulls things off the rails in this trendy small boutique in a side street off the main shopping area. Some of the creations she holds up against me then pulls a face and puts them back. Others she hands over for me to hold.
I don’t think she’s picked up one yet that I would have chosen, but I don’t want to be ungrateful; after all, she has come out of her way to help me.
‘That’ll do for now. Come on. We’ll try them on.’
A shop assistant has been hovering around us, probably checking we’re not shoplifting, and she leads us to the changing rooms.
I hang up my six garments on two chrome hooks in the cubicle and put my bag down on the plush navy triangular stool in the corner before pulling the equally plush velvet purple curtain closed.
It’s a far cry from the grubby mirrors and stark cold changing rooms Reeni and I normally use when we’re shopping.
I turn over a white swing tag which is safety pinned to the label on a bright red, halter-neck dress.
‘What?’ The price tag is so large I exclaim out loud. That kind of figure is going to take all of Mum’s money and some of mine.
‘How are you getting on?’ Shannon’s voice floats over the top of the cubicle divider.
‘Still trying,’ I call back and begin to tug down my leggings.
‘Come on. Let’s see at least one of them. They can’t all not fit,’ says Shannon.
‘One minute.’ I grab at the hem of the tight black dress I’m wearing and pull it downwards.
A sharp pain slices through my tummy and I grab at it and wince.
I stand stock still. It feels like a really bad period cramp, but then it’s gone as soon as it arrived. I’m probably wriggling around too much.
I stand sideways and try to pull in my tummy. The black seems to hide my bump quite well. I turn back to face the mirror and pull up the neckline. It’s good at disguising my huge rock-hard breasts too and as a bonus it’s the cheapest of all the dresses Shannon has picked out.
‘Ellie, get a move on.’
I slide open the curtain. ‘Ta-dah.’ I put my hands on my hips and wiggle a tiny curtsy. ‘What do you think?’
‘Ooo. That’s fabulous.’ Shannon comes over and knocks one of the straps off my shoulder and shuffles the top of the neckline down, revealing my now impressive cleavage as my boobs spill out of my too-small bra.
‘You have to show these off. I’d kill to have them.
’ She cups her own tiny boobs and shoves them upwards. ‘I’ve got none. Turn around.’
I do a three-sixty spin. ‘It’s not too short, is it? Or clingy?’ My hands hover in front of my tummy area.
She knocks them away. ‘Of course not. You look fab.’
I stare at her. She’s in a tiny red dress which clings in all the right places. It’s so short it only just covers her knickers and advertises that she doesn’t have a single extra ounce of fat on her. There’s no way my dad would let me out of the house wearing anything like that.
‘You look amazing,’ I say. Envious of the self-confidence coming off her in waves.
‘I do, don’t I?’ She swings around to face the huge changing room mirror and runs her hands down her body suggestively as she does a little shimmy.
‘How’s everyone getting on?’ says the shop assistant, popping her head into the room.
‘All good,’ says Shannon. ‘Ellie’s going to take that one. She looks fabulous.’
I give the assistant a clumsy smile.
‘Perfect. Come out to the till when you’re ready.’ And then she disappears.
‘Are you sure it’s OK?’ I pull at the black fabric, trying to smooth it out.
‘Absolutely. The girls will love it. Look how it shows off your boobs and your legs. It totally draws attention away from your middle. They’ll all be wearing this sort of thing too.’
Maybe she’s right. It would feel nice to feel good in something. I wish Reeni was here to give me her opinion. I trust her.
I take a breath. ‘OK. I’ll get it.’
I drape the black dress onto the till countertop.
There’s a little wire tree with bracelets hanging from its branches next to the till and I flick through them as the assistant wraps up the dress in soft ivory tissue paper.
There’s a lovely taupe one with conker-coloured beads and I think it’d suit Reeni’s colouring to a tee, so I pull it off the stand and add it to my purchase.
The assistant wraps that too and puts it and the dress in a sturdy cardboard bag with a fancy swirly logo and brown twine handles.
I hand her the majority of the money Mum gave me and she hands me the bag.
‘Are you not getting the red one?’ Shannon is standing next to me, her hands empty.
‘Oh, God no. Way too expensive in here for me. We’ll go to Primark next. I’ll get something in there.
Shit. If I’d known that’s where we were going next, I’d never have bought this.
Could I hand it back? I raise the bag to return it and then stop.
The shop assistant is staring at me. I’ll look like a total idiot handing it back now.
If I wear it carefully and leave the label on, I can probably bring it back next week.
I’ll pretend I’ve had a change of heart.
‘Are you coming?’ Shannon is standing holding the shop door open. ‘I’ve still got to find something for tonight.’
‘Yeah. Coming,’ I say and put my arm back down and head for the shop exit.