Do you worry about
your size?
Any of your ladies out there who’ve never had
a moment’s worry about your body shape, raise your hands now.
Thought so. Not a mitt
in sight.
Like it or not, we
live in a size-conscious world and us women are judged, not always on ability
alone, but on appearance, too. I’m no longer in my twenties – or my thirties or
forties either, come to that – but I’m every bit as weight conscious as my
younger peers. I’m five foot six and weigh 135 lbs, which is pretty ideal. I
feel good about myself – up to a point. You see, a few months ago I weighed 130
lbs. Where have the extra pounds come from? Do they show? Will my clothes still
look good? Will I gain more? Should I go on yet another diet?
Sound familiar? I’m
old enough to know better but still get caught up in the mad ethos of sizism.
So too does my mother-in-law, who’s over eighty, and kids as young as nine or
ten. Is it right? Hell, no, but I don’t see things changing any time soon.
In Downsizing, published by Musa, Maxine experiences all of these
feelings. She’s just a teenager at the start of the book. Extremely
intelligent, she feels invisible in crowded rooms, dismissed as an irrelevance
because of her bulk. No one except local heartthrob Noah Fenwick can see
through her unattractive exterior to the sensitive girl, with lots to offer,
lurking beneath all that extraneous flesh.
Here’s how Noah tries
to persuade Maxine that she shouldn’t worry about her size.
“You dance well, Max.
You’re really light on your feet.”
“For a fat lump, you mean.”
“You ain’t fat, darling.
Don’t put yourself down.”
“Noah, I weigh nearly
thirteen stone.”
“You just need to get a bit
of exercise and you’ll look great.”
“Please don’t patronize
me.” Tears trickled from behind her glasses and slid down her face.
“Christ, is that what you
think I’m doing?” He tugged at her hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I
feel like a goldfish in a bowl with all these people gawking at us.”
Noah dragged her out of the
tent and didn’t let go of her hand until they’d reached the bottom of the
garden. He steered her towards a bench and sat down beside her.
“Here.” He delved into his
pocket and produced a handkerchief. “I think it’s clean.”
“Thanks.” Sniffing, Maxine
dabbed at her eyes.
“What’s wrong, Max? Wanna
talk about it?”
“Nothing, other than the
fact that I’m fat and ugly.”
“You ain’t ugly.” Before
she could stop him Noah reached up and removed her glasses. “You’ve got
gorgeous emerald eyes. Do you have to wear glasses? Can’t you get contact
lenses?”
“No. I’ve got an
astigmatism.”
“Never mind, you’re still
gorgeous to me. You place too much stock by appearances.”
“That’s easy for you to
say!” Maxine rounded on him. “You’ve got every female under the age of sixty in
Colebrook lusting after you. And why do you suppose that is?”
“Yeah, and that’s why I’m
qualified to say that you shouldn’t judge by appearances. You’ve got plenty
going for you and don’t have to prove yourself.”
“Nobody can see beyond
this.” She indicated her body with her hands, looking close to tears again.
“Well, I can. We’ve both
had to survive on our wits, you and me. You’ve done it through your
intelligence, but I just went to the local school…well, when there was nothing
more profitable to do with my time,” he added with a grin. “So I’ve had to
learn to run with what I’ve got.”
“Noah, I don’t think―”
“If it weren’t for you I’d
never have discovered the joys of reading.”
“Yes you would. You were
obviously drawn towards books or you’d never have come into the library that
day.”
He recalled the day in
question, a little over a year ago, when he’d strolled into the library on a
whim, wearing mud-splattered work clothes that elicited disapproving tuts from
its staid occupants. Maxine, having just started her holiday job there, sat
behind the counter completely engrossed in a book. He’d asked her what she was
reading but she was too tongue-tied to answer him straight away. Noah couldn’t
understand why. He was the one out of
place, and if anyone felt awkward it ought to have been him.
He’d known who Maxine was,
but reckoned she was out of his league intellectually and would never want to
know him. To his astonishment, she found her voice and recommended books that
he might enjoy. Her recommendations were spot on and he went back the following
week to thank her, and to talk about what he’d read. It became a habit and he
often waited until last thing so they could have coffee together when she got
off work.
“Perhaps,” he said. “But I
was too busy making money and had no time to waste reading. Until you opened my
eyes and I realized what I was missing.”
Maxine, who he knew always
found it difficult to deal with compliments, changed the subject. “How’s your
father?” she asked.
“Same as ever.” He drifted
into a moody silence.
“Sorry if I’ve said
something I shouldn’t have.”
“You haven’t, but as usual
you’ve turned the subject away from yourself.”
“No one’s interested in
me.”
“I am.”
Noah cupped her face in his
hand and his thumb gently traced the outline of her plump jaw. He dropped his
head and brushed his lips against hers, parodying the seductive dance they’d
just shared in the tent. Maxine gasped, but when her arms slid round his neck
and her eyes fluttered closed, it became clear that she wasn’t objecting. That
impression was confirmed when, with a deep sigh, she buried her fingers in his
hair. Noah’s lips instinctively hardened against hers, forcing them apart as
his tongue slid into her mouth.
“Why did you do that?” she
asked breathlessly when he broke the kiss.
“You looked like you needed
reassurance.”
“Don’t!” She jerked away
from him and groped for her glasses. “Just don’t! You don’t need to stoke your
already over-inflated ego by playing games with me.”
In spite of his
reassurances, he lets her down. Which is when Maxine learns one very hard
lesson in life
Fat girls aren’t supposed to have
fun.
Maxine doesn’t see
Noah again for another twelve years, but can never get him out of her heart. To
find out what happens when they do meet again, look out for Downsizing from W. Soliman at Musa
Publishing. Available now at all on-line book stores.
And to all you ladies
who worry about your body shape, I hope Maxine’s story gives you heart.
Wendy
Charlie Hunter is,
like me, a Brit. He shares my husband’s passion for boating and, at forty,
having taken early retirement from the police, plans to live aboard his trawler
yacht in Brighton marina and spend his days restoring it to its former glory.
Sound familiar? 
