Free Take a Chance on Me by Carol Wyer

Charlie wondering just what she had up her sleeve this time.

Eleven
    J asmine was ending a session with a group of young women when Charlie arrived for her next class. The Carpe Diem list had stated Charlie attend a full programme of classes and she was happy to oblige. She sat in reception listening to the muffled music. Marcia came in carrying a large cloth bag. When she saw Charlie, she snorted like a pig.
    â€˜Don’t you start that again!’ warned Charlie, smiling. ‘I’m not going to make an idiot of myself again, today.’
    â€˜You didn’t make an idiot of yourself. Mind you, that fella did look rather surprised when you wriggled into him shouting “wee, wee, wee!”’ She started to laugh. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it. What are the chances of seeing him again?’
    â€˜Funny you should say that. I saw him only the other day at the café where I work.’
    â€˜Did he recognise you?’
    â€˜I’m afraid he did. Made some daft comment about bacon sandwiches. I had to wait until he left before I dared go back out and serve again. Art, my boss, thought it was hilarious and kept suggesting we should get some Peppa Pig books for the Quiet Room or pork scratchings. I’ve heard every pig-related joke possible.’
    â€˜It was rather funny, wasn’t it?’
    Charlie smiled. ‘I guess so. Have you been practising your fluttering?’
    â€˜Oh yes. I’ve worked hard at it every morning in the bathroom mirror. My cat found the whole thing fascinating and sat on the toilet to watch me. Weird. By the way, I hope you aren’t offended, but I made this for you. You didn’t have a belt last lesson so I thought you might like this one. I’m into sewing. I make all my own clothes. If you don’t like it, don’t worry. I won’t mind.’
    â€˜Oh wow!,’ said Charlie as Marcia handed her a tissue-wrapped parcel. Charlie unwrapped the parcel to reveal a turquoise sequined scarf. ‘I had hoped to pick something up after Jasmine told me last time but I hadn’t got round to it. This is beautiful. It’s really beautiful. I must pay you for it.’
    â€˜Cripes, no. I had nothing to do yesterday afternoon and I happened to have some spare material, and thousands of sequins, so I whipped it up. Thought it would suit you.’
    There was a lot of excited giggling. The class had finished and the door to the studio was now open. Several young women came rushing out, all talking at once. They were dressed similarly, in baggy black satin harem pants and cropped tops with their names written on them. Each one also wore a veil and one of them was wearing a large pink sash that read Wife Number 1 .
    Jasmine followed them out. ‘Hen party,’ she said by way of explanation. ‘They’re off to the pub now to show off their new moves and outfits.’
    â€˜They’re braver than me,’ said Marcia. ‘It’s chilly out there. They’ll have some super goosebumps to show off.’
    â€˜Do you get many hen parties, Jasmine?’ asked Charlie.
    â€˜More than I used to. This and Bollywood dancing is becoming very popular. Hens today want something different. They still like going abroad or on spa days but they are trying out all sorts of new activities. I’ve got a friend who went on a hen party to Scotland to do some grouse shooting.’
    â€˜That’s different,’ said Marcia. ‘I sat in front of the television painting my toenails the night before my wedding. And I was that excited about the wedding that I couldn’t keep anything down, not even wine. Besides, I wanted to keep a clear head for the big day. The whole hen party thing wasn’t what was important. Becoming a bride was what counted for me. It was a bit of a whirlwind romance so I didn’t have much time to organise anything big. Mind you, when I held my divorce party, now that was a proper celebration.