Stilettos & Stubble (7 page)

I could barely
translate half the lingo he was using and at times I felt myself glazing over.

‘You need to make
sure that the girls tell you when they need more hairspray for their slap or if
the wigs need a bit more zhoosh.  And Tittie will have a full blown hissy if he
doesn’t have gaffer tape for his nuts.  Keep on top of all of that and the rest
is a piece of piss.’

Hairspray for
slap?  Zhoosh?  Gaffer tape for nuts?  What on earth …?

Annie huffed
loudly.  ‘I’ve lost you, haven’t I?  I can tell by your eek.’  Again, I looked
confused and he stopped and grabbed a sheet of A4 paper.  ‘OK, first things
first.  Because I’m one of the
old
girls - by which I mean over thirty
....’ he added, fluttering his eyelashes daring me to say otherwise, ‘… I use
just the
tiniest
smattering of
Polari
.  ‘Gay speak’, I suppose is
the best way to describe it.  You won’t need to know a whole heap but a lot of
my troupe use it amongst themselves so I’ll write you a little list to get you
by.’

I watched as he
began scribbling furiously, occasionally stopping to chew on his pen as he
thought of a new word and added it to my growing vocabulary.

Eek -
shortened version of back slang for face - ‘ecaf’.  ‘What’s wrong with your
eek?’

Zhoosh - to
style hair.  Hair is ‘riah’ - again back slang

Lallies -
legs

Lallie
tappers - feet

Stillies or
kicks - stilettos or heels

Slap - make
up.  Best set with a good hit of hairspray

As the list grew
and grew and I felt more like I was about to start studying for a GCSE in
Latin, I stopped him and asked, ‘What about gaffer tape?  What’s with that? 
You said Tittie needed it.’

Annie placed his
pen on the table and smiled.  ‘Ah yes.  Prepare yourself for this one, oh
lovely Percy.  Tittie’s my partner, my lover - has been for years now - and he’s
… how shall we say … well he’s not hung like a Tic Tac, get my drift?
 
Lucky
me, eh?  So he … he ‘tucks and ducks’.  Are you with me?’

I frowned and
tried desperately to figure out what he was talking about.  There seemed no
point in lying so I shook my head and said, ‘No.  Sorry.  Might need a bit more
info than that.’

Annie stretched
and smiled.  ‘Well you need to be unshockable for this job so here goes - baptism
by fire!  Maybe that’s where I went wrong with the other girls - just never
gave them
all
the facts but you have the intelligence to ask questions
and can take it.  As the tasty Tittie is so well-endowed he needs to get rid of
his ‘junk’ - you know, the boy bits.  So he ‘tucks and ducks’ - hence the
duck-tape.  Gets it all out of the way for a smoother line in the cozzies. 
With me now?’

I gulped.  Oh
yes, I was with him and I suddenly realised just how much I had to learn.

*****

I left the club
just after five and began to make my way home, my head full of the oddest
images and strangest facts.  It had been a real eye-opener and I longed to be
home with Bogey to get my head around it all.

Annie and I had
left on good terms, with him agreeing to give me a little while to think things
through.  ‘I just
know
you’ll end up joining us though, I can feel it in
my …’

‘Yes I know.’  I
interrupted him.  ‘You can feel it in your third eye!’

‘Actually I was
going to say I could feel it in my water that time, Sugartits, but I’m glad you
agree I have a third eye!’

He was as mad as
a box of frogs but he was growing on me and, most importantly, he liked me and
had faith in me being able to do the job.

That counted for
a lot.

Maybe he’d caught
me at a weak moment and it would all end up another total disaster but, as I
let myself into my flat, I realised that I’d all but made my mind up.

I was about to
become Girl Friday to Annie Vestite, female impersonator extraordinaire, and
Front of House to ‘The Gossamer Glove.’

As I fed Bogey
and filled him in on my news, he looked at me as if to say, ‘Told you so!’

Chapter
Seven

Mia had left me
several messages and texts and I realised that I couldn’t avoid her anymore. 
It wasn’t her fault that my book was total tosh and she’d only been honest with
me.

Besides, I needed
to share my news with her about my career move and get her thoughts on it so I
settled with a huge mug of cocoa and dialled her number.  After nine in the
evening was always the safest bet - the kids were usually in bed and Mia and
James would be relaxing after their meal.

I listened to the
dialling tone, rubbing Bogey’s ears and humming to myself.  I was feeling quite
chirpy.  I had a job and I was looking forward to the challenge - a whole new
life stretched ahead of me.

The phone was
eventually answered and a small voice said, ‘Hello?  Isla speaking.  I’m sorry
but I have the pox and if
you
haven’t you might get spots too.  The
worst ones are on your tinky so I hope you don’t.  Who’s speaking please?’

I heard the phone
being wrestled from her and then a breathless Mia came on the line.  ‘Hi! 
Sorry about that.  Who is it?’

‘Mia it’s me -
what’s up?  What’s wrong with Isla?’  I asked.

‘Oh Perce! 
What’s wrong with
Isla
?  What’s wrong with this whole sodding family!  Isla,
Jo Jo
and
James have chickenpox!  I’m at my wits’ end.  I’m up and down
like a pair of whore’s drawers.  Of course, James is the worst - typical bloody
male - anyone would think he was at death’s door.  And the fact that he’s had
to have time off work is just making him intolerable.  I’m about to open a
bottle of wine and you know I
never
drink on my own.  Tell me some good
news,
please
!  I hear you and Tom are getting on well.’

I quickly quashed
any ideas that she may have had about Tom and me becoming an item and told her
that we really were just friends.  ‘But …’ I continued, ‘I
do
have some
other
news.’

‘Ooh, exciting! 
Do tell.  Is it about your book?  Have you found an agent who specialises in
that kind of stuff?  Honestly, Perce, I laughed until I cried!’

I cut her very
short, not willing to talk about my pathetic literary attempts and I continued
with my update. ‘I’ve got a job!  And I bet you could never guess where.’

Mia took a deep
breath and then exhaled.  ‘OK, OK, don’t tell me.  Let me think … erm …well as
you sound so excited it’s got to be something
really
cool like being
Daniel Craig’s dresser or … let’s think … chief chocolate tester at Green &
Blacks.  Am I close?’

She was obviously
going stir crazy locked in the house with her pox-ridden family because she’d
reverted to our teenage game of ‘Fantasy Careers’.  Her first choice had always
been Ant and Dec’s personal assistant, with benefits, and mine to be a roadie
with Take That - also with benefits.

Of course Mia had
never had to worry about working.  She’d married James almost before the ink
had dried on her ‘A’ level certificates and he’d kept her in the manner to
which she’d always been accustomed.  She’d led a charmed life and went straight
from the arms of wealthy, loving parents into the arms of a husband with the
same credentials.  James studied hard through the early years of their marriage
but they never struggled financially, supported lovingly by both sets of
parents.  Mia
could
have worked, as they’d decided to put off having
children for a while, but it suited them both for her to be at home and polish
her wifely skills.  She designed their first flat, furnishing it with stunning
pieces she discovered in markets and obscure shops.  She cleaned, arranged
flowers, cooked, baked and generally became the perfect ‘Stepford Wife’ - and
she’d loved every last minute of it.  She saw it all as a training ground for
when she’d eventually start her family.

As much as I
envied her, I knew it wasn’t the life for me. 
Yet
.  I knew I needed
more but I didn’t know what.  Take That weren’t likely to be bashing my door
down any time soon - I wasn’t
totally
deluded but I could still dream. 
But all that dreaming had found me at twenty eight with very little to show for
myself.  Mia had her ideal man, family home and two bundles of energy-draining
joy.  What did I have?

I listened to
Mia’s suggestions as they became more off-the-wall - ‘Beckham’s back shaver?  Jimmy
Choo road tester?’

‘Stop, Mia! 
Please stop.  You know you really need to get out more often.  No, it’s none of
those but it is a bit
different
.’  I took a deep breath and prepared to
reveal my radical change in direction.  ‘I’m going to work in a drag club.’

I heard her
splutter and then have a bit of a coughing fit and I waited for her response.  She
cleared her throat and started tentatively.  ‘Did you just say “
drag club
”?’

I was determined
not to let her rain on my parade or dampen my spirits in any way.  I was
feeling positive for the first time in years and I needed to make her see that
this was the right move for me.

‘Yes Mia. I
did
say that.  I’m going to help with the smooth running of the business and also
answer the phones and welcome guests as they arrive.  Problem?’

I knew that I
sounded a little defiant but could tell from the tone of Mia’s voice that I had
to leave her in no doubt that my mind was made up.

‘Oh, Perce!  Are
you
sure
?  I mean it sounds great fun but … well, you’ll be surrounded
by gays won’t you?  And you’ll
never
find yourself a man because you’ll
be working nights.  Have you really thought this one through?’

It really wasn’t
like Mia to be negative and I decided to put it down to her enforced
quarantine.  If the truth were told, I had
many
doubts about my new
position but I was feeling too fragile to fight my corner.  It was time to
bring the conversation to a close.  We never argued and I didn’t intend to
start.

‘Yes thanks,
Mia.  I’ve given it a lot of thought and right now I think it’s a great
opportunity.  Gotta dash, and you’d better go see to Isla. I think I can hear
her calling you.  Catch you later!’

OK, it was
cowardly and maybe a little rude but it was damage limitation and it had to be
done.

My balloon of
hope was feeling a little deflated and I slammed my mug down on the coffee
table in temper.

I decided to open
a bottle of wine and ring Daddy -
he’d
be pleased for me and he always
managed to cheer me up.

*****

I couldn’t ever
remember a time I’d heard my dad sounding so down.

I barely
recognised his voice when he answered the phone and almost apologised for
having dialled the wrong number.  He must have suddenly recognised the caller
display and made a feeble attempt at sounding more upbeat with, ‘Oh hi, Perce. 
I was just having a little nap.  You OK?’

‘I’m fine Daddy. 
Why were you asleep?  You’re never in bed before midnight.’  Alarm bells were
beginning to ring and I felt a cold wash of panic.

‘Just felt a bit
off colour, that’s all.  Nothing a proper night’s kip won’t cure.’

I was sure he was
just being stoic and could sense trouble crackling down the phone line towards
me.  ‘Mum OK is she?  Is she there?’

‘Yep yep, she’s
fine.  Not here though.  Out somewhere or other.’  He paused.  ‘
Again
.’

Ah!  He wasn’t
feeling under the weather at all.  My mother was up to her old tricks and poor
Daddy was suffering.  I was outraged on his behalf and wondered how much more
he could take.  What would
finally
push him to put his foot down?

I couldn’t bear
to think of him home alone and feeling miserable.  I looked at my watch - just
coming up for nine-thirty, still early, and I found myself saying, ‘Hey,
Daddy.  What d’ya say to a night on the town with your daughter?  Come and see
my new place of work?’

*****

A quick call to
Annie, who was ‘manning’ the phone, secured us a table and left me with ringing
ears.  His squeals down the phone, when I told him I’d decided to take the job,
were heart-warming and he agreed it would be an excellent idea for me to see a
show before throwing myself in at the deep end.

‘I just hope your
dad’s got an open mind, Sugartits.  This place ain’t for the faint-hearted.’

I assured him
Daddy would be fine and that he’d been a huge Danny LaRue fan in his day.

‘Ah yes, Danny,
one of the finest - but compared to my bunch, bloody Mother Theresa.  Be
warned!’

His cautionary
comment fell on deaf ears.  My father would be fine but, at that point, I had
no idea just
how
fine.

*****

‘Tittie Late’,
Annie’s partner, had just finished ‘her’ act and I was feeling like I’d entered
another world - one of glamour and smut, entertainment and innuendo.  Tittie
had been sensational.  ‘She’d’ worked the crowd - an odd mix of gay and
straight, hens and stags - and had them buckled over laughing in their seats, cheering
and yelling in response to her one liners.

Annie had
insisted on keeping Daddy and me in drinks for the night and it was more than
clear that my father was having a ball.  He’d started the evening a little
quiet and lost in his own thoughts but after a couple of double brandies, he
was his old self, chuckling at the gags and wiping tears away with his checked
hanky.

‘Oh Perce!  What
a place, eh?  I haven’t laughed so much in years.  Some of the jokes are quite
near the mark, aren’t they?  Your mother would hate it!  Far too vulgar for
her
taste.’

I wondered if
that was why he was enjoying it
quite
so much - the devil in him was
rebelling and deliberately taking part in an activity that would be have been condemned
by my mother.  I decided not to give it any further thought.  He was happy -
far happier than he’d been earlier - and that was all that mattered.

During the
interval we sat listening to a recording of ‘La Cages Aux Folles’ and I took
the time to take in the surroundings of what was to become my new work place. 
It was a small and intimate area with roughly a dozen round tables facing the
corner stage.  Each table was adorned with a dazzling gold brocade cloth,
exotic fake flowers and twinkling tea lights.  The stage, when not in use, was
concealed by a heavy scarlet and gold velvet curtain - hinting at the pleasures
to come.  The walls, also in reds and golds, were lit by ornate bronze light
fittings from a bygone age, topped off with tall imitation candles.  The air
was thick with scent and, if such a smell existed,
glamour
!  Had it not
been for the smoking ban, it would have been fitting for the club to be shrouded
in an atmospheric fog - adding to the decadent and dated feeling.

Who would have
thought the exterior of the building could be hiding such a thriving and
successful business?

Annie came over
to join us and shook Daddy’s hand as he pulled up a gilt-padded seat.

‘Quite a girl
you’ve got there,’ Annie said, ‘And I reckon she’s going to be an absolute
Godsend to this place.  I get a feeling about these things.  And you’re welcome
here, any time - on the house.  I want you both to think of it as a second home
- always a bosom for a pillow or a shoulder to cry on at ‘The Gossamer Glove’.’

Daddy looked
chuffed and asked Annie if he could buy him a drink.

Annie stood,
shaking his head. ‘No, no the drinks are on me and I never partake on the job. 
Need to keep my wits about me, but I might join you for a little nightcap at
the end of the set - get your thoughts on this mad place.  Laters!’  And he
minced his way across the club, waving and swapping banter with regulars.