Strictly My Husband: It's funny, it's romantic and it's got dancing - what's not to love! (2 page)

‘Hello,’ said Carly. ‘I’m Carly.’ She stuck her hand out for the second time.

‘Still Laura,’ said Laura, without offering her own hand.

‘Your utterly wonderful husband is mending my broken heart,’ Carly explained, smiling adoringly at Tom.

‘Well,’ said Tom, ‘I’m just doing what I can.’

‘You are a knight in shining armour,’ declared Carly. ‘And you . . .’ she said, pointing at Laura.

Are the stupid mug who has no idea what is going on, thought Laura.

‘. . . you are my fairy godmother,’ finished Carly.

Excellent, thought Laura. Usually old, wrinkly, overweight and inappropriately dressed for her age.

‘Shall we rewind back to this morning?’ Carly asked Tom.

‘Allow me.’ Tom copied the backwards robot dance, much to Carly’s delight.

‘Picture the scene,’ said Carly, dramatically waving her arms around.

I’d much rather not, thought Laura.

‘I arrive at the audition with a suitcase—’

‘Exhibit one,’ interrupted Tom. He shuffled back through the front door and reappeared moments later – to Laura’s horror – with a suitcase.

‘And the first person I see is your Tom,’ continued Carly.

‘I could see she was upset,’ Tom told Laura gravely.

This was too much. He could identify when someone he’d only just met was upset, could he? Laura practically had to put a sign over her head wrapped in fairy lights and with cans of beer hanging off it for Tom to recognise when she was upset.

‘Me and Gordon have broke up,’ announced Carly.

‘Gordon!’ Laura spluttered.

‘He came home and said he couldn’t live with me any more.’

‘Your boyfriend is called Gordon!’

‘Noooo,’ said Carly. ‘
Was
.
Was
called Gordon. It’s over. We are no more.’

No one was called Gordon these days, especially anyone young enough to be Carly’s boyfriend.

‘Loaded,’ Carly added tearfully, by way of further explanation. Laura now understood completely.

‘He said he couldn’t live with me any more,’ she continued. ‘He said I was messy and selfish and self-ob . . . ob . . . ob . . .’

‘Self-obsessed?’ Laura added helpfully.

Carly nodded. ‘Yes, that’s it. But I don’t think I am. Do you think I am, Tom?’

‘No,’ said Tom, shaking his head vigorously. ‘Not at all. Is she, Laura?’

‘I – don’t – really – know – do – I?’ said Laura slowly. Because I don’t know who this complete stranger, wrapped in purple Muppet fur, standing in my hall with a suitcase,
is
.

‘So then Tom . . .’ Carly faltered, her eyes now brimming with tears, ‘. . . Tom said he’d give me a lift to the Red Cow after the audition—’

‘She got the part, by the way,’ interrupted Tom, as though Laura had been waiting with bated breath for this information. ‘One of the best auditions I’ve ever seen at Wonderland.’

‘Really?’ said Carly, wide-eyed.

Tom nodded. ‘Really.’

‘And what happened next?’ urged Laura, unwilling to pause for admiration just now.

‘Well,’ continued Carly. ‘We got to the Red Cow and they had no rooms left, a funeral or something, so we had a drink and then Tom had a brilliant idea.’

Tom nodded again. ‘I did.’

I very much doubt it, thought Laura.

‘Tom said I could come and stay with you – just while the show is on. You know, rent your spare room.’

Laura felt her jaw slowly drop as Carly flashed her a watery smile.

‘Brilliant, eh?’ said Tom, moving to put his arm around Laura’s shoulders. ‘We were only talking the other night, weren’t we, about getting another lodger?’

‘We were,’ said Laura slowly. It was true they’d had a discussion about it. They’d not had a lodger since Laura got a big promotion at work, meaning they no longer needed the extra money to help pay the mortgage. But they’d been talking about starting a family and knew that at some point they wouldn’t be able to rely on Laura’s income. A short-term lodger seemed a good solution to building up their savings.

‘Carly says she’ll pay us two months’ rent up front even though she only needs to stay for four weeks,’ gasped Tom, grinning as though he’d just won the lottery.

‘It’s cheaper than a B & B,’ said Carly. ‘And much nicer,’ she added, glancing round the hall approvingly.

When they’d discussed having a lodger again Laura had envisaged someone similar to Rory, their previous tenant. She had happily overlooked his appalling dress sense and chronic dandruff since they rarely saw him – he worked all hours in one of the restaurants at the theme park during the open season then moved out over the winter to cook in a chalet in the Alps. Somehow Laura knew that Carly would not be as easily overlooked, even if it was only for four weeks.

‘I’m so grateful,’ said Carly, launching herself at Laura and engulfing her in another bear hug. ‘I’ve had the worst day and I can’t believe it’s all worked out so well. Come on’ – she pulled Tom’s arm – ‘group hug.’

Laura felt Tom’s arms tighten around the two of them as she was suffocated by Carly’s celebrity scent.

‘It’s all going to be OK,’ Tom said above their heads.

‘Do you know what I can’t believe,’ said Carly, abruptly pulling away. ‘The bastard left me on a Friday. Ruined my entire weekend.’

Chapter Two

Tom

Earlier that day
. . .

How he was already at this roundabout, he had no idea. In fact he had no idea how he had got out of bed, got breakfast, got changed, got into the car and was already just ten minutes from work doing the same journey he’d done on way, way too many occasions. Only ten minutes and he’d be through those damned entrance gates yet again and past the sign, which read: ‘
You have now arrived at your happy place so SMILE!
’ He wanted to stick pins in his eyes just thinking about it.

Another endless day at work was about to begin only today was worse. In fact it was one of the worst days of the year. Today he would have to pretend he was firmly in his happy place when it was the last place on earth he could possibly be happy in.

Today was audition day. And not only that, it was Halloween audition day. He knew as he followed the brown tourist signs to ‘The Wonderland Theme Park and Resort’ that even as he drew into the staff car park there would already be a few hopefuls lingering around, waiting for their chance to shine. The keen ones always came early and they were always the worst. Hope plastered across their faces as thickly as their caked-on foundation. All super-keen to tell him that they were super-talented and on the fast track to a superstar career. The kind that would drop into their laps as soon as they auditioned for next year’s
X Factor
. They’d only failed this year because they’d been told they didn’t have enough performing experience. So here they were, at a theme park, super-excited about looking grotesque as a zombie and frightening the living daylights out of the general public.

This was Tom’s fourteenth Halloween at Wonderland. A truly horrifying thought. He’d joined at eighteen as a performer in the Wild ’n’ Wacky Pirate Show as well as taking on the duties of the various costume characters that appeared around the park. Apart from the odd fluttering with a touring musical theatre company he’d never escaped. The day his boss had said to him that
he wasn’t far off being too old to perform but he would be a natural in entertainment management was possibly the worst day of his life. Laura on the other hand had been over the moon at the prospect of a permanent rather than a seasonal contract, relieved that it would give them more stability. And so he couldn’t say no. He owed it to her. She had been the main breadwinner throughout their marriage up to that point so he couldn’t turn it down to continue the pursuit of his dream of maybe one day making it big on stage or screen.

It was the hope and the innocence he saw on audition days that made his job pretty unbearable. They all reminded him so much of how he used to be. Keen and desperate. It was his job to smile and encourage when all he really wanted to say to them was to stop being so fucking deluded and go and work in KFC so that at least they would earn enough money to go and get wasted in Ibiza for two weeks a year and be happy.

To be perfectly honest he’d rather audition the weirdos that turned up at Halloween. They held no false dreams of future fame. They weren’t there in the hope they were on a stepping stone to greater glory. They actually just wanted to dress up as a zombie and terrify people. An altogether much healthier aim in life.

He turned right and stuck his tongue out at the welcome sign at the staff gates. He waved at the security guard; the man never waved back. Tom found it oddly comforting that someone was even more miserable to be here than he was every day. Five hundred yards up a driveway and that was it, the day would have to start and there was nothing he could think of that could make it in any way the slightest bit enjoyable.

He glanced at the girl staggering halfway up the drive, dragging an enormous leopard-skin suitcase. Wannabe singer/dancer – he immediately recognised it. Long fit legs clad in shiny purple poking out underneath some kind of hairy purple coat that must be a fashion thing. As he indicated to overtake her, she glanced over her shoulder and rather than the cheery, hopeful ‘I’m here’ wave he expected he could see distress written all over her face and she immediately stumbled and fell to the ground.

He slammed on his brakes, put on his hazard warning lights, which struck him as depressingly sensible, and leapt out to see if she was all right.

‘Are you OK?’ he asked, offering his hand for her to pull herself up with. He felt long fake nails scratch at his palm as he clutched her hand and hauled her up. ‘Talk about stopping traffic,’ he said, smiling.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she gasped. ‘I just tripped and there’s no path and this stupid suitcase is so heavy and . . .’

She looked as though she was about to burst into tears.

‘It’s OK,’ he said, noticing her beautiful blue eyes, fantastic figure and immediately felt ashamed. He pictured Velma out of
Scooby Doo
. Never failed.

‘No it’s not,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘I have an audition today and if they saw me arrive like this, in such a state, they’d never give me the job and I need this job. I
really
need it.’

Tom’s heart sank but before he could speak she carried on.

‘My boyfriend’s thrown me out and I have nowhere to go and no work and . . . and . . .’ The tears started their full-on descent down her cheeks.

Tom’s heart sank even further. Why was it that wherever there were dancers, singers and performers there was relationship drama? Sometimes he felt his team was more in need of an agony aunt than a boss.

‘Anyway,’ the girl said, sniffing loudly. ‘Not your problem.’ She forced out a smile. ‘Thank you for having the decency to stop. I’ll let you get on with your day. Goodbye.’ She grabbed the handle of the suitcase and staggered off.

Tom was stunned. Most unusual in his line of work for someone to begin a drama and then stop, despite the fact they had an audience. He’d never seen that before.

‘Let me give you a lift,’ he said, running after her and grabbing the case. ‘It’s not far but I can’t leave you struggling with this case.’

‘Oh.’ She turned back to face him. ‘That’s really kind.’ She looked at him through watery eyes, blinked rapidly, laughed and then touched her hair.

Shit, thought Tom. She’d done that weird thing a lot of women do when they first meet him. It was Laura who first identified it. She even had a name for it. She called it Tom’s Fondle Fondue look. Apparently, according to his wife, he was so good-looking that he had the power to reduce new female acquaintances to melted cheese and wish they were in a fondle with him. He
couldn’t see it himself. When he looked in the mirror all he could see was something quite ordinary apart from the slightly wonky nose and the horrific dimples that formed on his cheeks when he smiled. The girl was still standing on front of him flicking her hair. He pictured Velma digging a garden.

He turned away and went to go and put the case into his boot. By the time he was back in the car she had settled herself into the passenger seat.

‘You got rocks in that case or something?’ he asked, putting the car into gear.

‘Oh no,’ she replied. ‘I didn’t take the diamonds. I didn’t think that was fair.’

‘Oh, I see.’ Tom nodded. There was an awkward silence. ‘So you were engaged then? That’s tough.’

‘No,’ she replied. ‘He just liked to buy me diamonds. Well, he used to.’

Tom could hear sniffing again and wondered what his exit strategy should be. He turned into the staff car park and headed towards his usual parking space, preparing his instructions of where she could go and get a coffee and sort herself out.

‘Here we are,’ he announced as they pulled up.

‘I certainly hope so,’ she replied. ‘Or else you’re a psycho who’s secretly drugged and kidnapped me, then taken me to some weird other land where they numb your mind with wacky music constantly playing and freak you out with giant ladybirds lurking around every corner.’

‘So you’ve been here before?’ asked Tom.

‘No, actually. Many like it. So can you give me any tips?’ she asked, turning to face him and making no move to get out of the car.

‘Well, let’s see,’ replied Tom. ‘Don’t go within a country mile of the hot dogs and if someone asks you if you want to win a pink teddy, run away very fast and whatever you do not look back; I repeat: do not look back. The Games Team are evil predators and they will hunt you down.’

She laughed at him and he liked it.

‘No, silly, I mean about the audition. My friend auditioned last season and said the Entertainment Director is a right misery, never smiled once. Is he still here, do you know?’

Tom swallowed. ‘I believe so.’

‘Drat. I hate auditioning in front of someone who doesn’t smile. I know it’s probably all quite tedious, but come on, if you’re in that job you’re on the best side of the table really, aren’t you? You’re in work and the rest of us aren’t. The least you can do is smile.’

‘I suppose.’ Tom shrugged, opening his door and getting out. He lifted her suitcase out of the boot, deciding he had better ’fess up that he was in fact the miserable Entertainment Director.