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Torfaen Tales

So What

Claire looked despondently in the mirror and sighed. “There’s no way I’m going out tonight, Jenny, with a face like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just look at it!” she said, blowing out her cheeks. “Fatty face! And I have bags under my eyes big enough to carry shopping.”

Jenny rolled her eyes with exasperation. Claire had a lovely face, with clear, fresh skin, and big blue eyes with not so much as a hint of bags beneath.

“You’re being ridiculous. Your face looks the same as it always does, definitely not fat. And I don’t see any bags under your eyes. Come on, get your glad rags on!”

“No way! I feel fat and frumpy. And my hair’s a mess. Let’s just stay in tonight and watch TV.”

“Claire, stop it! You’re being paranoid. Thousands of women would give their right arm to be as slender as you are, you’d be lucky to tip the scales at nine stone with your winter coat on. And your hair looks great. You have a wardrobe full of lovely clothes, so get a move on and choose something to wear. I‘ve just had my shower, I can be ready in 15 minutes.”

Claire folded her arms resolutely and stuck out her chin. “I tell you, Jenny. I’m not fit for public exhibition. If I walk into that club tonight Shelley Norton and her cronies will take one look at me and start picking me to pieces. I couldn’t bear it!”

“Shelley Norton? Shelley with the frizzy hair and big bottom? I can’t believe you find her intimidating. And her friend Angela with the nose job that went wrong? I tell you, if they’re staring at you it’s because they’re jealous. You should just walk in with your head held high and ignore them. So what?”

But nothing Jenny could say would change her friend’s mind. In Claire’s distorted view she was fat and ugly, not fit to be seen in public.

“Well, if you really can’t face going out, how about we order in a take away and I pop up to the shop for a DVD and a bottle of wine.”

“Thanks, Jen, that’s a much better idea. I know you think I’m crazy, but my confidence is at rock bottom today. I could just about handle sitting in a darkened room with you watching a movie.”

“Glad to hear it. The take-away menus are in the drawer under the kettle. I’ll just put some make-up on and then nip up to the shop.”

“Make-up? For a ten minute visit to the local shop, after which you will be staying in for the rest of the evening?”

“Believe me, Claire, I’m not about to walk out of this front door without at least putting on mascara, eye shadow and lipstick. Even if I’m at death’s door I always put my make-up on. The only people who ever see me bare-faced are you and my mother.”

“Now who’s being paranoid,” muttered Claire under her breath as she rummaged in the kitchen drawer. “Whatever happened to ‘so what’?”

By Karenne Griffin


Last Modified on: 05-11-2015

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