Page 30 of Girls Just Want to Have Sun

Oh Christ.

‘Now come here,’ says Big Mand, coming at me with a can and some pots of glitter.

After a few minutes, they stand me in front of the mirror. I gasp. The girls have transformed me into a shiny, metallic, mythical, wood-fairy, nymph-type creature. I have face gems around my green eyes that make them seem huge and doll-like, and instead of looking foolish, they are very striking. My beachy, sun-kissed brown hair is swept over to one side, and sparkly thread is cleverly woven into a wide, ornate shoulder-grazing plait. They’ve given me a body tattoo in silvery blue glitter that snakes its way from my boob down my stomach to my knee. My arms have glitter armbands to match in blues and greens and my boob area has a sprinkling of purple glitter. I’m nothing if not colourful. Like a human bird of paradise wrapped in tinsel. That Lycra scrap of dress just about covers my nipples. It has a huge cut-out area to show off my new stomach tattoo and, like liquid, runs smoothly down my body to just about cover my crotch.

‘Much better!’ squeals Tash, obviously ecstatic that I’m now on-message and won’t embarrass them all by hiding my lady parts and wearing too little glitter.

I am having difficulty breathing.

I may look incredible but there is no way on earth that I am leaving the house like this, never mind going on stage in front of people. I need to go and change immediately.

A beeping outside distracts me.

‘Taxi’s here! Let’s go!’ roars Big Sue like a drill sergeant. ‘Go! Go! Go! Move it, people!’

Deep breaths.

Deep breaths.

10

As the beeping from the waiting taxi continues, the Dollz scramble around for bags, cigarettes, vapes, Greek yoghurt for sunburnt shoulders and hairspray, and my thoughts immediately fly to Matteo. What will he think if he sees me on stage like this? He’ll think I’m ridiculous. I feel a panic attack coming on. I exhale slowly, chanting inside my head that I can take my black dress with me in my bag and change back before I go on stage. The Dollz will be too busy to stop me.

Talk turns to the nuns as we inch our way to the door.

‘If I was single, I’d deffo go for Sister Hugh Huge Ones,’ says Cherry, confiding in us that his arty tattoo sleeve makes her foof twang. Tash and Liberty confirm that a major minge twinge has also occurred in their lady bits too.

‘I thought Sister Kevin was okay,’ admits Tash. ‘But he is a bit hairy for my liking. I am sooverthese hipster beards and the Jesus-waves they all have now.’

‘I’m deffo getting off with the Mother Superior,’ says Liberty, boldly staking her claim and receiving a cold glance from Tash.

‘Actually, I’m not bothered which nuns I get off with,’ Tash then decides easily. ‘I’ll be too drunk to tell them apart anyway.’

My stomach plummets. Another beep outside alerts us to Jorge waiting patiently to take us to the villa full of nuns. A feeling of dread overwhelms me. I quickly emergency WhatsApp Ged and Liam a photo of me and a screaming message saying there is no bloody way I can go on stage dressed like this.

Ged is the first to get back.

You’re very blue. You remind me of my favourite cocktail.

Liam says:

Mermaidesque. Simply fabulous, fabulous, fabulous.

Easy for him to say. This is probably his dream outfit. He then messages:

Are you all going in drag or just you?

Am I insane? What am I doing?

The minibus outside beeps for the third time.

‘Maybe I should give the nuns’ villa a miss and head straight to the venue for the soundcheck?’

They all glare at me.

‘No way! We’ve gone to a lot of effort,’ Tash says, giving me the once-over. ‘It’s a bloody miracle really. Come on, you’ll have a great time. Like last night.’ She winks a big, elaborately made-up eye at me. ‘Right, babes?’

Where to begin?

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