Who Needs Men Anyway?. Victoria Cooke

us justice.

      ‘Girls, we have to have at least one of those dresses!’ Kate said, dragging us back to the concierge desk. Megan shot me a worried look so I mouthed the words ‘don’t worry.’

      In the changing area, Lucinda had three garments each for us – the favourites we’d selected earlier on.

      ‘Oh, ladies, you all look fabulous,’ she gushed, taking in our hair and make-up. ‘I’ll go and get some drinks and nibbles; you ladies try everything on and we’ll have a look at you when you’re ready.’

      Megan came out first, wearing a navy, lace-trim, satin slip dress. It was simple but really worked for her; her shiny honey-brown hair and similarly coloured skin set the dress off perfectly, and the bit of contouring and understated smoky eyes had worked wonders for her. I noticed she couldn’t help glancing at herself in the mirror. I smiled, pleased she was happy.

      ‘Much better,’ Kate said, looking her over.

      ‘You look beautiful, as you always do,’ I said, ignoring Kate’s blunt remark.

      She smiled nervously. ‘I do love my hair and make-up. And this dress is amazing.’

      Lucinda returned with three champagne flutes. ‘Lucinda, we’ll take that dress,’ Kate said, pointing at Megan.

      Megan’s eyes filled with horror and she shook her head. ‘I . . . I can’t,’ she whispered, so just Kate and I could hear.

      Kate, the champers obviously getting to her, waved off the remark. ‘It’s on me. You just have to have it. Today, think of me as your fairy sugar-mamma.’ I was surprised she didn’t hic at the end. I started to feel a little embarrassed on both Kate’s and Megan’s behalves and slipped into my cubicle to try on the teal Missoni maxi-dress I’d loved earlier while Megan continued to protest about Kate’s gift. With my hair and make-up done, it looked even better and it wouldn’t be long before the Emsworth, Haiden & Haiden summer ball. I popped my head around the curtain. ‘And this please, Lucinda.’

      Next, it was Kate’s turn. She stepped out in a white, form-fitting Versace dress that ended just above her knee. It was plain apart from two gold rings – one on the shoulder and one on the waist. Her tanned skin and dark hair contrasted perfectly.

      ‘I think you have yourself a winner there,’ I said, but I needn’t have.

      ‘I know.’ She smiled while smoothing the dress down over her curves and admiring herself in the mirror.

      ‘You look like George Clooney’s wife,’ Megan exclaimed.

      Kate smiled. ‘Shame he didn’t meet me first.’ With that, she turned back and went into her cubicle.

      While we were waiting for Kate, I started to send James a text message, just to see what time he’d be back from the office. Yes, he was at the office on a Saturday. When I looked up, I saw Megan trying on the Balmain leather jacket and turning from left to right as she admired it through the mirror.

      ‘You love it, don’t you?’ I asked.

      ‘I do. I’ve never had anything so expensive on my body before. Not even my engagement ring is worth this much.’ She shook her head. ‘The leather is so soft.’

      ‘Well, if there was ever a time to treat yourself, now would be it,’ I said.

      ‘You have to have it. It’s like it was made for you!’ Kate said, bursting out of the fitting room.

      ‘So, what are we having, ladies?’ Lucinda asked.

      ‘I’m taking these,’ Megan blurted out, holding up the dress and the jacket in one hand and a credit card in the other. I glanced at Kate. ‘Don’t worry, the account is in Mike’s name, and he’s recently cleared the balance,’ Megan said, grinning.

      ‘I’m beginning to like you.’ Kate smiled, placing an arm on Megan’s shoulder.

      An hour or so later, we were sipping Singapore Slings and dancing in one of the trendy bars that had popped up in Wilmslow. Megan was even seeming to enjoy herself, which meant I could relax a bit too.

      ‘All right, ladies?’ A doughy man in navy jeans and a white shirt invaded our dancing triangle. ‘Can I buy one of you gorgeous ladies a drink?’ I looked him over wondering if he’d be a good option for Megan to have a bit fun with. With his fleshy face and leering grin, he wasn’t.

      I was about to shoo him away when Kate piped up. ‘Rule number one, you don’t just barge into a group of women having fun. Rule number two, you pick one girl and politely flatter her; you don’t chance all three.’ She shook her head and turned her back to him. ‘I bet he has the gall to complain about being single too!’ I started to feel a bit sorry for him.

      ‘Ooh, we have a feisty one here.’ He looked amused. ‘Okay then – you, I’ll buy you a drink.’ He prodded a finger towards her ample bosom and smirked as he cast a lewd eye over her perfect figure – a gesture she would definitely not appreciate.

      Her nostrils flared. ‘How about you buy yourself a taxi home and a shirt that doesn’t gape around your swollen middle,’ Kate snapped, seemingly not taken with his charms.

      He pulled a face and sauntered off, making a beeline for the next group of women.

      ‘Well, if that’s what the fish in the sea are like these days, I think I’ll stay single for the rest of my life,’ Megan said allowing her features to sag in defeat.

      ‘It’s not just the fish in the sea that pose a problem.’ Kate nodded towards the group of girls that our lecherous laddie had just approached. ‘It’s the competition. Look at them – it’s like a Victoria’s Secret works do over there.’

      She was right: women seemed to have come on leaps and bounds recently in make-up artistry, creating cheekbones, eyebrows, and a flawless finish that defied nature and made Photoshopped magazine pictures seem plausible. Of course, for this one night only, we looked pretty darn good too but the women she was talking about were something else. There was a certain air of ‘supermodel’ style about them.

      Today’s role models are a tough act to follow. Instagram and Snapchat ‘celebs’ promoting buff bodies and clean eating make for a tougher aspiration. I’d thought clean eating was washing your salad before chucking it in a bowl until Megan told me it was the latest fad diet. Admittedly, I’d then tried it – desperate to keep up.

      ‘You can’t tell how old anybody is any more,’ Megan said.

      ‘That’s because people have fillers and Botox and get their lips done,’ Kate chimed in.

      ‘You’re one to talk.’ If it was available, Kate had tried it – not that I was a stranger to the odd minor filler here and there.

      ‘Well, I’m forty; I’m talking about younger women. I mean, look how skinny they are – where do they keep their organs?’ She was gawping at the same waif-thin, seemingly ageless group at the bar that Megan had pointed out.

      ‘You’re forty-three! And haven’t seen a double-figured dress size in your life. You’re basically an older version of those girls but still you look as good.’ Kate was exasperating sometimes and I was beginning to wonder if she’d start quoting Snow White villains in her next breath. Megan had stood in a bemused silence throughout our exchange.

      ‘An eight, not a double zero. The only curves those girls aspire to would have to be made from silicone.’

      I smirked. Kate was a handful but she wasn’t a bitch. ‘Oh my goodness, you’re jealous.’

      ‘I’m not, I’m—’

      ‘Don’t worry, Kate, you’re still the fairest in the land,’ I said in a mock-babying tone, earning myself a weary glance.

      ‘You could always join in Charlotte’s PT sessions with me,’ Megan said, looking over at me nervously. She was sweet. And