Poor Little Fat Girl

When she was a child, her parents had thought it funny how she loved her food. They loved to watch her eat and took pleasure that she always cleaned her plate. They compared their only daughter to her two cousins. She wasn’t fussy like Susan, a year her senior, whose mother despaired at getting her daughter to eat anything, let alone something nutritious. No, their Lenora was a good girl. When, at 5 years old she got up in the middle of the night and ate a whole chicken out of the fridge, her father had roared with laughter. “That’s my girl.”

Lenora pitied her other cousin Nicky, six months her junior, whose mother was always voicing doom and gloom. Lenora had overheard her tell her parents, “You shouldn’t let her eat like that. She’ll get fat and she won’t be able to lose it.”

As if being married to one of her father’s two brothers gave her the right to criticise how she was brought up. Poor Nicky was only allowed to eat two slices of bread with her meal, no matter how much she pleaded with Auntie Ann. It wasn’t as if it was making any difference. Nicky was still the same size as she was. Lenora wondered why Susan didn’t like her food and what it would be like to be thin. She never found out. Susan stayed thin. Nicky was plump, but Lenora was fat. She just carried on getting fatter. And fatter. And fatter.

As the three girls grew up they played together. When their ages reached double figures, they listened to records and talked about clothes and music and boys. Or at least Susan and Nicky did. Lenora listened. Whilst the other two danced, Lenora watched. Nicky used to try to get her to join in. Lenora would insist. “I can’t dance.”

“You can learn. I’ll teach you.”

But Lenora wouldn’t try. She knew she was too fat and would just look stupid trying to move her enormous hips in time to the sultry tones of Elvis Presley or the lively beat of Bill Hayley. To console herself, she went into the kitchen and got something to eat.

School was more difficult. Other children made fun of her. She worked hard and was good at lessons, but she had no friends. P.E. was the worst. She wasn’t allowed to sit the lesson out. No, she had to change into navy blue knickers and white blouse like the others. Lenora didn’t know which was worse; when it was sunny or when it was raining. In good weather the whole class was made to run around the playground and the other kids made noises and gestures, imitating her fat wobbling. When it was too wet or cold to go outside, they had sports in the gym. Her efforts to climb the wall-bars amused her classmates, but the groans of dread sounded genuine when they played leap-frog.

When the three cousins got older they stopped socialising together, or at least Lenora stopped socialising with them. Susan and Nicky went out buying clothes, going to concerts, dancing in clubs. Lenora, stayed at home. Daddy was the love of her life. He worshipped her. She and daddy would sit in the kitchen talking and eating after her younger brother Jeremy and Mummy had gone to bed. Sometimes they only had biscuits and milk, but if either of them felt hungry they would take it in turns to cook for each other.

She no longer listened to pop music like her cousins. She immersed herself in opera as her father and his brothers. When her father bought a piano, it was the high spot of her life. She lost all her self-consciousness when she sat in front of the keys as her hands flew across them. She looked forward to the weekly arrival of her piano teacher, Miss Thomas. She practised every day and her tutor was effusive in her praise of the novice pianist. Lenora glowed under the kind words and tried harder and harder.

Lenora joined the school orchestra and although she never actually made friends, at least the other members of the orchestra and the choir would talk civilly to her. Her piano playing improved so much that she was asked to perform a solo at the school concert. Although she longed to show off for her parents’ and Miss Thomas’ sake, she dreaded what the other children would say. She’d overheard someone in woodwind calling her The Fat Swot and dreaded what other unpleasant names the others might have for her. Would they accuse her of showing off?

Eventually the school music teacher, her father and Miss Thomas won. The big day arrived. She looked at the dress her mother had bought for her for this special occasion. It wasn’t just a tent. It was more a shot silk, blue and mauve marquee. She put it on, hating the feminine feeling the soft fabric gave her, knowing that no man except her father would ever look at her with love.

During the first half of the concert she sat at the school’s grand piano and played, never moving from the stool. In the interval the instrument was wheeled to the centre of the stage. When the curtain came up, she had to walk to the stool and sit down, under the scrutiny of everyone in the auditorium. Her heart was hammering so loudly in her mouth that she felt sure it could be heard by everyone there. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and dripped onto her cheeks. They rolled down to her chin and dropped onto the swirling colours of her dress making dark patches where they landed. Her palms were sweaty and she started to get palpitations.

Then she saw her father; saw the pride in his face and for him and only for him, walked the six long feet to the waiting stool and sat down. Lenora forgot the other children and the watching parents. Forgetting where she was she just played, pouring into her music her longing for friends, for relationships and love. The audience loved it. Not a sound other than those of the beautiful instrument could be heard.

As the last note died away, the applause exploded around her, dragging her mercilessly back to reality. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Instead she roughly pushed the stool back and caught the hem of her dress under the leg. She tried to get up, found she couldn’t, so pushed harder, trapping the fabric even more firmly than before. Panicking, she grabbed the side of the stool, pushing the leg clean through the delicate fabric. With a terrible ripping sound the bottom of her dress separated from the rest of the skirt. Turning she tripped over the stool, landing in a heap of split wood as the legs of the stool parted company with the seat.

Before the curtain came down to hide her mortification, she heard the audience gasp, heard first the hush, then the muffled chuckles, then the outright guffaws. The tears streamed down her face but she couldn’t move. Her father was the first one to reach her. He put his arms round her huge body and held her to him, stroking her head as he had when she was a child. She sobbed whilst he told her how good her playing had been

Lenora no longer cared about playing the piano. She’d made a fool of herself and vowed she would never play in public again. After being helped up, she gathered the remains of her dress and allowed herself to be led off the stage. Looking neither left nor right, she walked the length of the school hall and out through the back door.

After that she refused to go back to school so tutors were paid to come to their home for her to finish her education. Her father found the name of the examining board and special arrangements were made for her to take her exams at the local centre, away from all the stares and amusement of her peers. She passed everything with flying colours, justifying her father’s faith in her, giving her belief in her own abilities.

Lenora’s father arranged for her to go to a nursing home to try and help her lose weight. She stayed for two days, but couldn’t put up with her food being rationed, so discharged herself.

Pianos became her life. She and her father would buy pianos at auctions and sales. With infinite patience and care they’d restore them then sell them to the rich and famous. They moved to a larger house and their home became their showroom.

One day the impossible happened. A buyer became interested in Lenora the woman. After a whirlwind courtship she married Michael in a quiet ceremony with only close family in attendance. They didn’t have a honeymoon, preferring instead to spend time alone together in their own home, a ground floor apartment close to Lenora’s parents’ house. Lenora backed Michael’s suggestion to her father to set him up with his own shop to sell smaller musical instruments and accessories. Then she spent her time helping him. However, he was not a businessman and the shop started losing money. Eventually they sold it, reverting to Lenora’s income from piano refurbishment.

Then Michael dropped his bombshell. No longer working, he wanted to start a family. He volunteered to be a house husband, staying at home looking after their child whilst his wife worked. To Lenora it was the worst thing he could have suggested. The thought of her immense body further swollen with child was more than she could take.

She invented a business trip to inspect some pianos. Without telling anyone where she was really going, she booked a room in a hotel in London and ordered room service of a huge meal and a couple of bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon, her favourite wine. When the steward brought it in, her eyes lit up. Pressing a £50 note into his hand, she enjoyed the incredulous expression on his face when he saw the denomination of the note. His “Enjoy your meal.” cut off suddenly as she firmly she closed the door behind him. Opening it again briefly, she placed the Do Not Disturb notice on the outside handle, then went back to her food.

Lenora took a small bottle out of her bag and looked at the label. Mogadon. Two to be taken before retiring. Avoid alcoholic drink. She tipped the entire contents of the bottle onto her plate and sat down for her meal.

Lenora was found by the hotel staff two days later. Her note, addressed to her father, had simply said she had been fat for long enough. She could not take even the thought of making herself bigger by being pregnant.

Michael didn’t to go the funeral. No-one heard from him again. No-one looked for him. Lenora’s father lost the will to live when his beloved daughter died. He developed Leukaemia and died within the year. He was mourned by his brothers, wife and son as his daughter had been mourned by her cousins and her mother and brother.