Stilettos & Stubble (9 page)

*****

Lubov was
ensconced in the tiny loo attached to the changing room and I could hear him humming
mournful songs to himself and using more hairspray than was probably safe in
such a confined area.

Lady and Vi seemed
to have moved their spat out into the tiny back yard where they were both
puffing furiously on cigarettes and giving one another the evil eye, now
adorned with fluttering false eyelashes in pink and silver.  I was grateful
they were smoking outside, because if a spark from their lighters had caught
the aerosol fumes they’d have blown the place sky high.

Not brave enough
to disrobe in the girls’ dressing room, I made my way to the customers’ loo and
shut myself in.  Thankfully, for once, I had decent underwear on and a pair of
ladder-free tights - albeit 70 denier granny ones.

The dress was
very simple in a heavy black jersey with the faintest sheen.  I slipped it over
my head and it slithered to the ground, skimming my curves effortlessly and, as
I looked down, I saw my cleavage looking positively buoyant.  Kicking my own
skirt out from underneath, I shuffled out of the cubicle and stood in front of
the full length mirror by the sink.

My breath caught
in my throat and I put my hand to my face as I saw myself.  I had
never
looked
better in my life!  OK, my hair was a mess and I was shoeless in my sexless
tights but I looked fab.  I was taking my first tentative steps to the mirror
for a closer look, when the door was flung open and Tittie appeared.

‘HA!  Told you! 
You look totes amazeballs!  Now straighten your eek, get those sad sack tights
off and whack these on your lallies.’  He threw me a packet of 10 deniers.  ‘Then,
get your arse back in the office and let me loose on your riah and your slap. 
We’ll need to find you some stillies too.’

As he left the
loo, I stood there smiling to myself.  Partly because I looked so hot but
mainly because I’d understood every word he’d just said to me.

I’d come a long
way in just one short day.

Chapter
Nine

It was fast approaching
eight o’clock and the time for me to take up my position on the front desk.  My
stomach was churning and the brandy had done little to settle it.  The atmosphere
had kicked up a notch as the queens transformed into their personas and
prepared for ‘Showtime’.

One minute there’d
be a total lull in the level of sound and the next somebody would start singing
or a row would break out.  I quickly realised that the mirror was the main bone
of contention amongst the girls and too much individual time spent preening
resulted in huge blow-ups.  When I quietly suggested that they bring in hand
mirrors, anyone would have thought I’d declared I was a homophobe.  The shocked
silence and looks of disdain thrown my way told me that my thoughts on the
subject were not required and ‘Mirror Gate’ would continue to run and run.

None of the girls
used the customers’ loos as they didn’t want to ruin the allure by bumping into
punters in the harsh electric light.  This meant that, until the club was
officially opened, I had sole use of that mirror.  And boy, did I make use of
it!

I was simply in
awe of the way Tittie had executed my makeover.  My hair had been trained into
soft curls, my make up subtle and unbelievably effective.  I glowed and
sparkled in a way I’d never done before.  I looked like a
woman
.  Nobody
would mistake me for one of the drags and, if I’d been totally honest with myself,
that
was what I’d really been dreading.

Annie came
bursting into the loo just before eight, in full war paint and teetering
heels.  ‘Come on, Sugartits!  It’s curtain up, stop dribbling over your
reflection and get your bootie out front.’  He kissed me on the cheeks and
gently fluffed my hair.  ‘You go get ‘em girl.  You’ll be faberooney!’

I made my way to
my desk in the entrance hall as the strains of Judy Garland started up on the
sound system, fighting to drown out the shrieks of Lady in the changing room. 
‘Get your sodding ugly mug out of the way, Vi, and give the true talent a
chance, you old battleaxe!’

*****

The first hour
was pretty quiet.  None of the acts started until nine so the audience seemed
to leave it until just before then to arrive.  I knew that the majority of the
tables were already booked for the night but had been told we’d also get a
certain amount of passing trade or regulars who popped by on the off-chance of
there being space. We had the capacity for a hundred customers and Health and
Safety dictated that we couldn’t go over.  I needed to keep a careful check on
numbers and ensure that I stuck rigidly to that figure.  Annie had informed me
that the fine was horrendous if we went over by even one and happened to be
caught out.

So when the first
raucous group of guys turned up I welcomed them, took their money, showed them
through to the bar area and noted that their arrival had taken us to almost
eighty percent full.  The Glove was obviously well known and loved and Annie had
been right in saying there was never a dull moment.

Between answering
calls and greeting guests, I barely had time to feel nervous and I actually
found that I was beginning to enjoy myself.  A couple of the stags from various
groups would pop out every now and again and, more often than not, offer to
bring me a drink out from the bar.  Annie had insisted it was fine for me to ‘partake
of a tipple’ and had added, ‘Even if you don’t want one, say yes!  More dosh in
our coffers!’

At just gone
eleven, we’d hit our customer limit so I locked the front door as instructed
and settled back with a cool white wine.  Annie had said that, as long as the
phone was on voicemail at this point in the evening, I was more than welcome to
go and watch the acts - but I was quite happy to take advantage of the peace
and crack on with the cashing up.

I was finishing
the final entrance figures for the night and storing any cash in the safe
concealed by the portrait of Danny La Rue, when I turned and saw Tittie
standing in the doorway with a lurid cocktail and a beaming smile.

‘My!  Whose aura
perked up a bit tonight?  You’re positively glowing, Babes!’

I felt myself flush
again.  I’d had a great night and felt I’d done well - for once I hadn’t
stuffed up, broken anything or trodden on anyone’s toes.  That had to be a good
sign.

‘I’ve had a ball,
Tittie.  I really have,’ I told him as I sat on my gold throne and rubbed my
tired feet.

Tittie hoisted
himself onto the desk and stretched his fishnet-clad legs.  ‘It gets you under
its spell, this place.  Once you’ve been bitten by The Glove there’s no escape
and, as you get to know a few of the regular punters, you’ll feel like you’ve
been here forever.’

It was true.  I
did
feel as if the club had cast some sort of magic over me.  It had certainly
reflected in my appearance and I’d made my way through my first night with no
major hiccups. 

I finished my
drink and looked at the clock, just coming up for midnight, my official
knocking off time.  I didn’t want to go until I’d seen Annie as I had the Lubov
conversation to pass on and I needed to let him know that the takings were all
counted and locked in the safe.

‘I haven’t seen
Annie for a while.  Is he around?’ I asked as I slipped my feet back into my
shoes and winced.

‘You’ll need some
gel pads for your feet if you’re gonna start wearing stillies.  I’ll get you
some.’  Tittie paused and sighed, ruffling his OTT purple wig.  ‘Percy?  Can I
ask you a favour?  You’ve not seen Annie around much tonight cos he’s gone.  He
keeps doing it.  He does his act and then pisses off.  I’m really worried about
him.’  He swigged at the last of his cocktail and looked directly at me.  ‘This
place is his life.  I thought
I
was too but he’s so distant with me
lately.  It’s doing my head in and I don’t know whether to have a shit, shave
or haircut - as my old dad used to say.’

I laughed at his quaint
expression but could see that he was just using it for effect - trying to be
brave - and it wasn’t easy for him.

‘What if he’s
found someone else?  I just don’t know what I’d do without him.  He’s my
rock.’  I could see the tears beginning to form and he blinked them away,
whilst doing the girlie thing of waving his hands at his face in the vain hope
of stopping them.  ‘Help me. Percy!  Help me find out what he’s up to.  He
obviously likes and trusts you so he’d open up to you - I just know he would. 
Will you do that for me?’

Phew!  One day in
the job and I’d gone from Ugly Duckling to Swan, learnt the lingo, found out why
Lubov had a beef with the others and now I was being asked for marriage
guidance.

‘Tittie, I’m sure
it’s nothing.  You guys have been together for years, haven’t you?  He wouldn’t
be messing around, I’m sure.

Tittie jumped
down from his position on the desk and stood with his hands firmly on his hips.
 ‘I NEED TO KNOW’, he shouted in a booming male voice - a direct contrast to
his outward persona.  And then he burst into gulping great sobs.  ‘Be my
friend, Percy, that’s all I ask.  Find out what going on.  It’s killing me.’

I ran round to
the other side of the desk and took his hands in mine.  I tried to hug him but
he was too big - even for me.  It was quite nice to feel so dainty and I
relished the feeling for just a few seconds before saying, ‘I’ll try Tittie.  I’ll
do my best, but I doubt very much that he’ll tell me anything.  He barely knows
me.’

‘Just give it a
go.  I don’t know what else to do.’  He looked so sad and I nodded, promising
to see if I could get to the bottom of it.

‘So to speak!’  Tittie
joked in response, once more trying to make light of the matter.  ‘I mean, I’m
sure it’s nothing and I’ll chop his dick off if he
is
doing the dirty on
me but …  well, you know, I love him so much that …’

His sentence was
cut short as we suddenly heard frantic banging on the main door.

‘HELLO!  HELLO! 
ANYONE IN THERE?  OPEN THE FRIGGING DOOR WILL YOU?’

I panicked,
looking to Tittie for guidance.  ‘What do I do?  Do I open it?  Annie said not
to let anyone in after we’d hit our max.’

Tittie pulled his
broad shoulders back and found his deepest voice.  ‘Sorry, mate we’re full for
tonight.  You’ll have to come back another night.’  He looked at me with a
satisfied nod, clearly thinking he’d dealt with the situation.

‘I don’t give a
stuff if you’re full, empty or bloody closed forever,’ the voice came back.  ‘I’ve
got a bloke here who’s pissed out of his head and says he needs to be here. 
OPEN THE SODDING DOOR!’

Tittie jumped up
and down on the spot - as best he could in his six inch stilettos - and then
ran to undo the lock.  ‘Oh, it must be Annie, returning to the fold.  He’s
troubled, I knew he was.  Bless!’

The door was
flung open and there, in the semi darkness, was the most striking hulk of a man
I’d ever laid eyes on.

And in a pathetic
heap on his arm … was my father.

*****

Suddenly
everything seemed to happen very quickly.

Tittie looked
crestfallen that it wasn’t Annie.  ‘The Hulk’ barged his way in with my father
flailing about like a ragdoll and dumped him on my golden throne.  And my heart
was pounding with a mixture of shock and desire.

Good grief, he
was stunning!

‘Bloody hell!’ he
said.  ‘For God’s sake get him some coffee and sober him up.  He’s pissed as a
parrot and been doing my head in all night.  I’m not a frigging babysitter.’

Stunning and
rude!

I pulled myself
up to my full height - and yet I still felt quite tiny in comparison to the
monster in front of me.  ‘Excuse me.  I don’t know who you are
or
why
you’ve felt the need to take care of my father but there really is no need to
be quite so bolshie.’

He looked me up
and down, almost in disgust.  ‘Oh, so
you’re
the daughter, are you? 
Well I just happened to be out for a couple of quiet pints in the pub over the
road and I got lumbered.  I’m not a Samaritan you know.  Sort him out!’  And
with that he turned and lumbered back through the door, slamming it behind him.

My blood was
pounding in my head.  What an arrogant man and how
dare
he be so nasty
about my dad!

The dad who was
now slumped in the seat and singing at the top of his voice, with a dopey grin
on his face.  He suddenly stopped and tried to focus on me.  ‘Where are all the
pretty ladies, Perce?’  He screwed up his eyes a little more and added, ‘Ooh,
you’re looking lovely.  Mummy
would
approve.’  And then, in the blink of
my false eyelashes, he burst into tears.

Tittie ran to the
office to busy himself with coffee and I knelt at my dad’s feet, taking his
hands in mine.  ‘Daddy!  What’s wrong?  Why are you so … upset?  And you
never
drink that much.  What’s the matter?’

He emitted a huge
snort and then rubbed furiously at his eyes before turning them to me.  ‘She’s
left me, Perce.  Run off with her tennis coach.  It’s finally happened.’

*****

After several
cups of nuclear strength coffee, Daddy was beginning to sober up and Tittie ordered
us a cab to take us home.  ‘On the house, Sugartits,’ he told me as he helped usher
my dad into the waiting car.

Once we got to my
flat, Daddy was very quiet.  He sat on the sofa and took off his shoes,
suddenly looking so much older than his years.  At that moment I felt more hate
for my mother than I’d ever thought possible.

So to hear her
voice on my answering machine, confirming the split from my father and that she
wanted all of his belongings out of the house by the next day, had me seeing
red.