Star Fish (7 page)

‘Babe, sorry – I didn’t think. You must be freezing. Put my coat on.’

‘No, it’s my fault for being so vain. I’ll be fine, we just need to walk faster, that’s all.’

‘I tell you what, Amy. We’ve seen some swans, we’ve had some fresh air, why don’t we give up on this river bit and find a nice warm pub to sit in?’

I think he must have heard my huge sigh of relief.

Two gin and tonics, a rum and Coke and a cheeseburger later I was beginning to feel fantastic.

‘Amy, you really are such a beautiful fish I can’t believe that no one has caught you yet.’

‘You’re making me blush,’ I told him ‘ and you’re not so bad yourself. Now tell me, if you were really a fish, would you be a shark or a minnow?’

Carl was undeterred by this strange question. ‘A minnow, I reckon. I’m too nice to be a shark.’

Good job Liv wasn’t here, as she would be raising her eyebrows. This was my favourite getting to know someone game. Once I started, that was it – I could go on for hours. The other player always seemed to respond with gusto so I guessed it couldn’t be too boring.

‘Black or white?’ I continued.

‘It has to be black.’

Fab, Carl was obviously on my wavelength.

‘Sweet or sour?’

‘Oh sweet, definitely.’ ‘You?’

‘Yes, sweet as well.’

This made me think of a birthday treat that my mum and dad took me on when I was about twelve years old. We went to a really lovely restaurant, which was renowned for its puddings. The sweet trolley came round and Dad had said. ‘It’s her birthday, you know. Give her a bit of everything.’

I had eleven different puddings on one plate – cheesecake, Pavlova, lemon meringue pie, chocolate brownies, the full works. This was the first and only time I have ever been sick in a public place, all over the next table. Needless to say, we never went back there. Anna still finds great joy in ribbing me over this.

‘Now Ms Anderson, I don’t think you can always be the question master. Brandy or vodka?’ Carl teased.

‘Ergh, I don’t like either, but if it was the only alcohol left in the world I would say brandy.’

‘Roses or carnations?’

Bless Carl, only a Piscean would be so sweet.

‘Oh, roses for sure and they have to be yellow.’

‘Yellow roses? That’s a new one on me.’

‘OK, Mr Peters, how about a hug or a kiss?’

‘Kiss, definitely.’ His beautiful brown deer eyes bore straight into mine.

Oh my God, and I so wanted to kiss him. You could almost drown in his eyes. Not only that, he had long sweeping lashes, ones I’d always dreamed of having myself. I spent a fortune on mascara just trying to make mine curl slightly up on the ends.

‘You can’t beat a good old snog now and then, can you, Ms Anderson?’ And he reached right over the table there and then and gave me a mind blowing frenchie. I felt slightly giddy when we eventually pulled apart.

‘Wow, us fish know how to snog, that’s for sure!’ I sighed.

‘We also know how to make an entrance to a wedding. Quick, we’ve got five minutes to get back to the hotel.’

Carl held my hand throughout the ceremony. The bride looked beautiful. The two bridesmaids were very cute and the mothers both cried on cue. I managed to remain calm as I had no association with Carl’s cousin whatsoever. However, when it came to the ‘you may kiss the bride’ bit and Carl squeezed my hand I was off then. The butterfly mind was flying over as many buddleia bushes as it could manage.

That was me standing there. I was in that white organza dress, hair tied up in uniform bride style. I was looking thin and radiant. My husband-to-be was waiting at the end of the aisle, looking at me with complete love and adoration. I could hear the church bells ringing and my friends singing. The sun was shining brightly outside and the honeymoon was booked to St Lucia.

It was at times like these that I was really glad to be a Piscean, seeing life through my rose-coloured spectacles. If I had had a logical, earthbound mind, in truth Brad would be in the white organza, my cute little bridesmaids would be in the guise of Anna, Katie, Liv and H, all jostling for position in the photographs. My groom would have his fingers crossed hoping I wasn’t staggering down the aisle and the honeymoon would probably be in Katie’s apartment, as I would have spent all the wedding money on food.

‘Amy, we’re on this table, come on.’

A colourful character addressed Carl. ‘All right, geezer?’ He was about six foot four with a shock of red hair, pulled forward into a quiff. He was accompanied by his girlfriend who was about four foot four, with jet-black hair cut into a severe bob with an earring in the shape of some sort of animal in her nose. She looked quite scary but was in fact a real laugh.

‘Carl, geezer, how’s it going, man? Haven’t seen you for ages.’

Ginger Geezer Man had gone to university with Carl. His sense of humour was as amusing as his looks. The other two people on our table were Auntie Marge and Uncle Doug from Scunthorpe. The pair of them must have been nearing eighty.

‘Hi there, I’m Amy.’ I held out my hand to Uncle Doug.

‘You’re lame, duck? Why? What on earth have you done?’

Auntie Marge intervened. ‘It’s OK, Sammy duck, he’s a little deaf.’

By this time the other three on the table were in hysterics.

‘Oh, how annoying. I missed the joke, Doug,’ Auntie Marge continued.

‘Missed what, duck?’ Uncle Doug replied, whilst letting off an almighty fart. This is going to be fun, I thought.

The wine was flowing. We were all getting on really well, despite the fog of Uncle Doug’s obvious bowel complaint. I really wished that Anna had been here, she would have relished this toilet humour.

‘Nice beaver,’ I commented to Severe Bob.

‘What?’ She looked at me as if I was either a closet lesbian or completely mad.

‘I said nice beaver – nice beaver nose ring.’

Ginger Geezer, Severe Bob and Carl were laughing so much I thought they would fall off their chairs.

‘It’s a rabbit!’

‘Oh sorry, how embarrassing.’

‘Who’s had it?’ piped up Uncle Doug and then promptly farted again.

As the wine continued to flow I felt more and more at ease with Carl. I could still almost feel our kiss from earlier and actually couldn’t wait to be alone with him. I knew he felt the same way as I could feel his hand occasionally brushing my thigh.

The speeches had started. The father of the bride stood up.

‘Firstly I would like to say that I am so, so proud of my beautiful daughter. She surpassed herself at college, got her degree and continued to maintain her healthy twelve-year relationship to my new son-in-law, without even a single row. She is a constant support to me and I love her dearly.’

How wonderful, I thought weepily, and then started imagining my wedding again.

My father stood up.

‘Firstly I would like to say that despite a turbulent thirty-two years, I am proud of young Amy. Neither the fact that she was chucked out of college for having an affair with her music teacher, nor the fact that she brought more inappropriate men home than her cat brought in mice, nor even the fact that she has actually
paid
her husband to marry her allows me to not still love her dearly.’

I was brought abruptly out of my thoughts by a hand slowly creeping up my leg and under my dress. Carl’s hand felt rougher than I had imagined. I smiled and began to squirm slightly; I looked to the side to give Carl a sultry look and nearly fainted as I found myself looking straight into the blood shot eyes of Uncle Doug.

By ten o’clock I was feeling the effects of copious amounts of Pinot Grigio.

‘Do you want to dance, Amy?’

‘Do you know, I’d love to, Carl.’

Carl smelt divine; I do love a man who wears strong, musky aftershave. As we smooched our way through ‘Three Times a Lady’ and ‘Angels’ Carl leant down and gave me another mind-blowing frenchie.

‘I’ve booked a room, Amy. Totally up to you, of course, but I would really love you to spend the night with me. We can just hug all night.’

Bless Carl, he was so sweet. Maybe Christopher was right in his matchmaking; perhaps at last I had met a soul-mate, a gentle man with whom I could bond.

‘I would really like that.’

The room that Carl had booked in the hotel was amazing. I don’t know what it is with me and hotel rooms but I get really excited every time I stay somewhere. I always have to run around the room checking everything out. Most importantly, I have to check out the bathroom and even more bizarrely, despite my religious disbeliefs, if there isn’t a Bible in the bedside cupboard I feel quite put out.

This particular room caused more of a furore than usual, as not only did it have a balcony that looked out over Windsor Castle, but also an exquisite bathroom. It was huge and all white. There was a huge white Jacuzzi in the corner and even more excitingly, huge snuggly His and Hers white bathrobes hanging on the back of the door. Carl seemed amused at my whoops of delight.

Just seeing the Jacuzzi made me feel quite horny. I’d always wanted to have sex in a whirlpool and here I was with an extremely sexy Piscean, feeling fuzzy-headed and relaxed. The night was our oyster and I was ready for anything! I put the ‘hug all night’ comment to the back of my mind and started to initiate the Anderson School of Seduction technique.

Oh God, I was about to have one of those moments that would cause me to wake up in the morning and physically cringe at my exuberant behaviour, but once Amy Jane Anderson was on a mission there was no stopping this gal!

‘Tonight, Carl Peters.’ I slurred and held my arm in the air dramatically, ‘I am going to be – Shirley Bassey!’

I shimmied into the bathroom and quickly undressed down to my underwear.

Thank goodness I’d bought new for the occasion. Waltzing out in my grey smalls would have not created the right image at all, oh no sir-ee. I also was glad that I was drunk and that my inhibitions were at zero level. I no longer cared about any excess flesh that was oozing out of the corners of my shocking pink, super cleavage lifter with matching g-string and suspender belt. Dramatically emerging from the bathroom, the singing, or should I say wailing, commenced.

‘The minute you walked in the joint, der dum!’ I gyrated my hips and pointed my arm seductively at Carl. He was now lying on the bed, looking bemused now, rather than amused. ‘I could tell you were a man of distinction.’ More gyrating. ‘Hey Big Suspenders!’

I ripped my suspenders undone, then started to try and peel off my stockings erotically. Unfortunately, in my drunken state I lost my balance, started hopping around like I was on a pogo stick for the first time, then fell headlong through the open French windows onto the balcony.

I was just about to start crying as I could feel blood dripping down my knee when suddenly there was an almighty round of applause and whoops from across the street. Not only had Carl had to witness this whole sorry performance first-hand but so had Regiment 151, whose living quarters at Windsor Castle were obviously right opposite the hotel!

Carl didn’t seem too amused now. He came outside, threw a robe around me and ushered me inside, he then shut the doors and curtains as quickly as he could to the resounding cries of, ‘Heh, Shirley Bassey, show us your assy one more time, baby!’

He then gave me a look purely reserved for a parent to a naughty child and said quite firmly, ‘Amy, although very honoured to receive such a performance, I really do think it’s time for bed.’

– Twelve –

Gemini:
An unexpected encounter leaves you feeling hurt and embarrassed today.

‘Hugged all bloody night? Princess, I can’t believe you haven’t had a shag yet! I know you can’t hit the coconut every time, but it’s about time you had a shot at the target!’ Brad exclaimed.

‘Obviously Shirley Bassey isn’t his cup of tea!’ I laughed.

I hadn’t told Brad about my passionate night with Declan; in fact the only living creature I had confided in was Penelope. I felt a bit mean about this, but thought if I told my friends, they were bound to try and talk me out of the dating lark, and I was beginning to quite enjoy myself.

‘Well, I’m off to this dinner-date evening with Liv tonight, and you know what she’s like. She will probably talk me into going off with the waiter if none of the dinner dates are worth pursuing.’

Christopher had left me a message yearning to know how my date with Carl had gone. I was feeling extremely hungover after the wedding experience so couldn’t be bothered to talk to him. I sent him a text message instead.

‘
SUCCESS! SECOND ROUND REQUIRED! PS: IS THIS EXTRA
?’ He replied immediately. Hadn’t got a life of his own? ‘
GREAT.OK NO
.’ How bloody dull. I liked a text message with at least a bit of humour. Maybe he was being short with me for cancelling my date with Declan.

I almost felt like I was betraying Carl by going on this dinner-date thing. I don’t know why, really. We had hugged and kissed and I felt completely at ease with him, but a girl had to keep her options open and a night out with Liv would certainly allow me to do that.

‘All right, Minger, let’s party.’ Liv had arrived. She was carrying a bottle of pink champagne and a packet of dry-roasted peanuts. ‘I thought we could have a little aperitif and snackette before we leave.’

‘So, are you going to put some clothes on before we leave as well?’ I enquired.

Liv made one of her screwed-up faces, that looked so funny even the Mona Lisa would have let out an enormous belly laugh.

Actually, she looked fabulous; only she could get away with the very short black mini-dress that she was wearing. Her breasts were heaving out of it and her mane of red hair was piled on top with seductive little ringlets hanging down the sides.

‘Underwear?’

‘Obviously not!’

‘So no dropping your napkin then, sweetie.’

Penelope sauntered in, sniffed Liv’s leg, gave one of his glares to both of us, then sauntered off again.

Feeling tipsy after the pink champagne we arrived at the venue of the dinner party. A beautiful old cottage, in a village about ten miles outside of Reading. Rosalind, the hostess with the mostess, greeted us. Her voice was low and husky; she was wearing a high-necked, straight black dress that touched the floor, and burgundy lipstick. Her nails were like eagle’s talons. She could easily have passed as Cordelia’s sister.

‘Hi there, girls, you must be Liv and Amy. We’ve been waiting for you.’

I felt like I was on the set of some sort of horror movie.

We were ushered into the dining room. The ceiling was low and just two single candles in the middle of a huge bench table gave the room an eerie glow. There were three people standing chatting in the corner, drinking champagne. One girl, and two boys, each beautifully dressed in their black tie ensembles.

‘Liv.’ I jabbed her in the back. ‘You didn’t say it was black tie, you cow.’

‘I didn’t know,’ she whispered back.

Liv was all right in her black creation. I did have a dress on but it was a gold-halter neck number that I had had made for me for H’s wedding. I suddenly felt very un-chic and really out of place. I also was slightly perturbed that there were more girls than boys.

‘Dinner is served,’ Rosalind huskily announced.

‘For those of you who haven’t been before, remember it’s boy, girl, boy, girl. I’ll sound the gong – chat your chat for twenty minutes, I’ll sound the gong again and then you all move round.’

I grimaced at Liv. She smirked back. I knew she would be in her element.

‘By the way, ladies, there is another man for you on his way. He’s in a taxi as we speak. The spare lady will have to listen in until he arrives.’

Dong!
Rosalind bashed the worn golden gong in the corner of the room. I glanced at Liv again; she could sense my apprehension. What sort of night was this going to be? Liv, of course, was loving it; she gave me one of her faces and then promptly proceeded to home in on the louder of the two contenders.

Sam had this theory that all people resembled animals or birds of some sort. He had labelled me as a Jack Russell. ‘Nothing at all to do with you being a dog, Ames, ’cos you know you’re not. It’s just you tear around, making lots of noise, you have a nasty bite sometimes but everyone still loves you.’

Throughout my life I had come across nearly the whole deckful of Noah’s Ark. I had worked for a shark and a fox and had been out with more magpies than I care to remember. Tonight was certainly like feeding time at the zoo.

Liv made straight for a bloke I immediately named ‘Lion Man.’ He had a mane of long, blond wavy hair and was very tanned in an orange sort of way. A gold medallion clung to his excessively hairy chest. He obviously wanted to be the centre of attention.
Leo
was written all over his face.

Next to Lion Man was Scorpion Woman. Her features were pointy and she had the most piercing green eyes I had ever seen. Her hair was black and cropped short, and every time she laughed or should I say cackled she threw her head right back as if she had just stepped out of the asylum.

Scorpion Woman was actually quite frightening. She also had inch-long talons painted purple. What was it with these women and their nails? I have never had nails. I can’t even remember when I started biting them. It bothers other people that I have stubby-looking hands but I don’t actually care. I reckon that nail biting is not as dangerous a habit as smoking so I shall continue to do it. In fact, me with nails is actually quite dangerous. I did try the false nail thing once, got drunk, stuck my finger in my ear to scratch it and ended up in casualty with a damaged eardrum!

Lion Man, aka Evan, was enjoying himself hugely. With Liv one side of him and Scorpion Woman the other, he was in his element. The girls had taken it on themselves to share the twenty minutes with Lion Man. I heard Liv’s opener and realised why I loved her. ‘So, Evan, do you feel that sex on a first date is appropriate?’

As Stranger Man had not turned up yet, I was on the other side of the bench next to Slug Man. Slug Man because I find slugs particularly dull. Looks wise he wasn’t really ugly, he just had what I would call an ‘insignificant face’. He had straight mousy hair, in no particular style, and murky hazel eyes. His face never seemed to change expression and he had a thin upper lip, so an instant no no there. His voice was monotone and without taking any sort of breath he spurted the following

‘Hello, you look lovely in gold.’

‘Your eyes are a pretty colour.’

‘Your lipstick suits you.’

Ergh, ergh, ergh, vile man. I knew that I would have to ask him some questions but really felt like saying

‘Look, you have no dress sense, your eyes are the colour of a slug and your lips need a Botox injection.’

Suddenly I sneezed, three times in a row.

‘Bless you, bless you, bless you. Hey, you look amazing when you sneeze.’

Now why couldn’t the ones I fancied come out with something like that?

When I regained my composure and managed to find out that Slug Man, aka Crispin (I guess even his mother wasn’t too keen on him) was an accountant, who lived in Hertfordshire. He was thirty-nine and had only ever had one girlfriend. His favourite hobby was stamp collecting. Even with Lion Man being the only other choice I was quite pleased when the gong sounded for a change around. I did actually feel quite sorry for Crispin though, knowing that Liv and Scorpion Woman would make mincemeat of him.

Just as the gong sounded for the second time, the dining-room door flew open and in walked Stranger Man.

My mouth began to open and shut like that of a startled goldfish in disbelief.