‘Once upon a time, top sportswear designers begged me to wear their labels.’ I half laughed, half sobbed, as Dani handed me a tissue to blot my tears and blow my nose, while Mel hitched up the sagging straps to preserve my nipples’ dignity.
‘Well, you have to demonstrate in the flesh, as it were, or Selena won’t surrender the other one,’ Dani said, ushering me out of the cubicle and into the main changing area. ‘Selena! Take a look at this!’
Selena stepped out of her cubicle as if she was used to parading her toned muscles in a tiny patch of fabric trying to impersonate swimwear. ‘Ooh. Maybe a spray tan before the big day, Amy? You look like a woman who’s not seen the sun in years.’
‘Give it a rest, Selena,’ Bronwyn groaned. ‘Just cos Amy’s the star of the day. Like, literally. Try and be less obvious about your rampant jealousy, why don’t you?’
‘Forget a spray tan, maybe a costume that doesn’t resemble a plastic bag?’ Mel barked, planted with her feet apart, hands on hips like a compressed Wonder Woman in her correctly fitting, still eye-wateringly tiny, swimsuit. ‘Hand over the size twelve, or else our best, most high-profile member of the team will compete in non-branded colours. And how will that affect hashtag GetPiperaPoolPal?’
‘Yeah,’ Mystery Woman One chimed in. ‘If you want Nathan’s eyes off Ames and onto you, sticking her in a cossie that gapes so bad it shows her hoohaa isn’t the way to go about it.’
I didn’t know whether to be more concerned that she thought we’d reached nickname territory, or that a woman whose name I didn’t know had seen my hoohaa. Or that she called it a hoohaa. Either way, my hoohaa and I were going straight back into the cubicle.
‘Fine!’ The smaller costume flew over the top of the cubicle door and draped itself over my face.I wondered if I could keep it there for a few days.‘But, for the record, I don’t give a crap if Nathan’s or any other eyes are on me. I took a day off work to try to help by finding some decent team outfits that won’t break the bank and create a fun, bonding moment for us all and forpity’s sake, how hard can it frigging well be to remember THREE WORDS IN ORDER!’Despite the increase in volume, Selena’s voice began to fade into the distance as she must have stomped away. ‘It’s HASHTAG POOLCHUFFINGPALFORPIPER!’
‘That’s five words, then, innit?’ someone said.
‘Hold these, I’ll go after her,’ Bronwyn said, leaving the only sound in the changing room a few awkward shuffles and coughs.
‘Come on, then, Amy,’ Dani tapped on my cubicle door. ‘You’d better try it on at least, after all that.’
So, I did. And with everything else going on I barely had space in my head to feel bothered about it the second time. And, aware that resistance was futile, I stepped out and showed them all what it looked like, too. I mean, I was going to be in front of a whole lot more people before long, might as well get back in practice.
‘How is it?’ Marjory asked, as I gazed at the woman in the mirror, nipples and hoohaa both decently covered. ‘Is this the return of Amelia Piper?’
‘Amelia Piper plus about three stone of baggage?’ I shook my head. ‘No. This isn’t the old me. I’ll never go back to being her again.’
There were a few mumbles of protest from the women behind, all kitted out in their sky-blue running and cycling gear.
‘Oh, no, that’s fine. I don’t want to go back. Amelia Piper was stressed and miserable and confused and… lost. She couldn’t stay true to who she was because she didn’t have a clue who that was.’ I backed up and put my arm around Mel, who’d added a pink swim cap and a pair of orange armbands to her outfit. ‘Amelia Piper was lonely. She gave up because she didn’t have a squad cheering her on when it really mattered.’
‘What about Amy, then? What about now?’ Dani asked.
‘AmyPiper is brave, and beautiful and doesn’t give a crap about all this,’ I gave a couple of my flabbiest bits a slap, ‘because this is the weight of experience, and wisdom, and a splendid amount of yummy breakfasts with her squad. Amy Piper knows what a real champion is made of, and that right now she’s looking at one. A crowded shop, in the middle of the day, half-dressed? She’s taken on her ultimate foe and kicked its sorry ass. Moira Vanderbeek might write a bitchy article about how Amelia Piper has let herself go, ended up a no one in nowhere doing nothing. Add a load of carefully non-photoshopped photos with arrows pointing at cellulite and stretch marks and saggy bits. Screw her! I’m not ashamed of my battle scars. I earnt them and no one but me knows how hard I fought or what it cost me.’
‘Hurrah!’ my new, true, sky-blue squad cheered. They cheered even harder as I stuffed my clothes in a bag and strutted out of the changing room still in my swimwear, ‘I think I’ll just go on and wear this baby all the way home!’
‘Um. Excuse me, madam. We’d like to have a word.’
‘Oh! Right! Yes! Would it be okay if I put a few more clothes on first, Officer?’
‘I think that would be a good idea.’
52
Stop Being a Loser Programme
Day One Hundred and Sixty-One
It had been a mixed week. Propelled by the victory in Sporting Warehouse, I had done a phone-in interview with BBC Radio Nottingham – all very pleasant and focused on the campaign. On Monday, I had attended a far more significant interview, having driven to a small industrial estate in Nottingham and clicked right on up in my mustard heels to the office of Winlock Tenders. Grant Winlock, who had last seen me in person about three years ago, offered me a seat, a giant hug, a home-made coconut cookie to go along with my coffee and a promotion, effective immediately. I had even invited Cee-Cee for dinner again, and only got so annoyed I wanted to stab her with my fork twice.
On the downside, I had spent the week being haunted.
Haunted by an itsy-bitsy, teeny-weeny, sky-blue… swimsuit.
I had two options when it came to my big comeback:
Plan A was to pretend it wasn’t really happening, get as fit as I could from running with the Larks, spend the rest of the time buried in senior bid writing, turn up on the day and dive straight into my first swim in fourteen years.
