Fat Bottomed Girls

By Clair Gibson

They never thought it could happen! For two divorced, 40-something women life suddenly turned in their favour.

Carol and Amy win part of a mid week jackpot. After treating their sons and paying bills, they treat themselves to a holiday taking in as many cities and performances of the show "We Will Rock You" as they can in 3 weeks.

Amsterdam, Paris, Madrid, Berlin, Frankfurt, Vienna, Montreux, Milan and Rome are all in their sights before returning to London to see a special final performance.

Along the way they surprise each other pushing each others comfort zones, get up to mischief, make friends with handsome men, get arrested, put their lives in the hands of a bungee cord, drink far too much, eat till they burst and laugh till they cry.

From luxury to outrageous, their antics and journey lead them to see life from a new perspective and for one, turns into self discovery.

Join the ladies to discover the true meaning of friendship, love and life.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clair Gibson
• Release date: Oct 23, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466161924

Clair Gibson

Clair Gibson currently splits her time between Glasgow and Manchester and sees writing works of fiction as her true venture in life and is currently working on her next offering.She has nine books available -Another Chance at LoveFat Bottomed GirlsBlackpool Here We ComeLeft BehindAll for HerYours, mine & the truthStifado for twoThe price of friendshipBroken returnSee her blog for details of those and new works in development

Book preview

Fat Bottomed Girls

Clair Gibson

This is a work of fiction.

The show We Will Rock You is currently playing to smash audiences in London, on tour in the UK and around the world.

The characters of this book are the products of the author and co-author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Book cover by Wendy Proteau.

Copyright 2011 by Clair Gibson.

All rights reserved.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the following people...

My best friend Jules, you gave me so much to work with between our dreams and imaginations, coming from a need to act younger than we are. Without your love, encouragement and escapades, this book would not exist.

To Wendy, for the never-ending support, unwavering belief, helpful suggestions and editing advice. Thank you for your love, friendship and honesty.

To Kat, for making me smile, when the world looks bleak and for unwavering friendship.

To my family who give me hope and continue to push me, to be a better writer and person. I am so very grateful.

One day, soon, all our hope and dreams will come true xx

Table of Contents

1. Chapter 1 - Summer 2011

2. Chapter 2 - Day 1

3. Chapter 3 - Day 2

4. Chapter 4 - Day 3

5. Chapter 5 - Day 4

6. Chapter 6 - Day 5

7. Chapter 7 - Day 6

8. Chapter 8 - Day 7

9. Chapter 9 - Day 8

10. Chapter 10 - Day 9

11. Chapter 11 - Day 10

12. Chapter 12 - Day 11

13. Chapter 13 - Day 12

14. Chapter 14 - Day 13

15. Chapter 15 - Day 14

16. Chapter 16 - Day 15

17. Chapter 17 - Day 16

18. Chapter 18 - Day 17

19. Chapter 19 - Day 18

20. Chapter 20 - Day 19

21. Chapter 21 - Day 20

1.

February 1971 – Queen –The greatest rock band that ever lived takes to the stage. Freddie Mercury, Brian May, Roger Taylor and John Deacon transform the music scene by unleashing a man with a moustache and hairy chest on an unsuspecting world.

Amy and Carol are too busy playing with baby toys and haven’t discovered rock music... YET

Summer 2011

Come on already, moaned Carol fed up with the two lottery presenters talking statistics and nonsense to fill their time slot instead of getting on with it. We don't care, she yelled at the TV throwing her arms up in the air.

By the time they reached the third draw of the 'Mid-week Lotto', Carol's fingers tapped up and down incessantly on the coffee table. She jotted down the numbers as Alan the 'Voice of the balls' confirmed them, making a mental Yes, or No, to each one.

Two or three, a tenner, if we're lucky, she said to herself as the show finished. She flicked off the TV and wandered through to her bedroom.

Not tonight Amy. Sorry, we're not giving up the old job this week. She said, casting her eyes over to the drawers where a picture of her and Amy sat. Their two smiling, drunk faces on yet another boozy night out, gazed back at her.

Another photo lay next to it, her son, Steven, carrying a box, taken two years ago when he moved out and into his university digs. He was a fine young man, and he was doing well for himself. Least I got that right.

Carol lay back on her pillow grimacing at the thought of spending another day wading through boring documents. She fell asleep, dreaming of spending lottery millions with her best friend and spoiling her son.

Early the next morning Carol bought two drinks from the nearest coffee shop. They took it in turns to treat each other since neither could function without an early morning caffeine shot. Since Amy had already been in work for at least an hour, Carol made them extra-large.

Amy's sleek blonde hair peeked above her flat screen monitor as Carol sauntered across the office floor. Today she wore her streamlined red glasses framing her face, making it look slightly longer, and her, much younger. Carol stopped by the side of Amy's desk. Here you go. An extra-large light caramel Frappuccino as requested.

Thanks. Amy smiled at her friend and gratefully accepted the drink. A pile of paper and files lay everywhere. An early sign of a category nine disaster on Amy's scale of bad workdays, but the Frappuccino should reduce it to seven and a half, at least.

Dressed in jeans, wedges, with a tight red top to match her glasses, she wore an outfit perfect for a summer's day, rather than a day in the office. Amy relaxed back in her chair and took a long sip. She always insisted on dressing up, saying she never knew whom she might meet. Her nose twitched several times. Is that gingerbread I can smell? You didn't, did you?

Carol grinned before breaking into a fit of giggles. I did a very large gingerbread latte. She rested against the desk next to her friend.

Flirting with the barista again?

No. Carol scoffed and rolled her eyes at the thought. I wouldn't know where to start. He's a youngster.

Amy chuckled louder. So?

Chatting up the talent is your department lady, not mine. Carol took a long swig of her coffee and shook her head in resignation. You know I'm no good at all that stuff.

Come off it, you must be. You got a Christmas drink in June. Amy threw her head back roaring with laughter making their colleagues turn and stare. If he's a baby, then it's all the more fun and you get to be a cougar.

No. Carol raised her eyebrows at her friend. You're wrong and anyway, that's more your style. Don't you think?

Amy's childish reply spoke volumes, she stuck her tongue out at her friend, not willing to admit Carol spoke the truth.

Are we doing dinner tonight? Carol asked. I know we always do but I like to ask.

Damn right, dinner and a bottle of wine, that's what Thursdays are for. Amy smirked warmly at her best friend whilst replying to an email at the same time. When are you finishing or should I say escaping?

Carol glanced at her watch and tried to figure it out. Half four-ish.

Want a lift home? We can go via the supermarket and pick up dinner. Is it your place or mine tonight? I can never keep track of who's turn it is to cook.

Yours, I did last Thursday. Carol looked around as co-workers filled up the area fast ready to start the day's work. I'd better go. See you in reception about half four then.

See you later.

Carol walked away with her head bowed, keeping her eyes down, fixed on the carpet, avoiding contact with anyone who knew her. A simple procedure saving her from answering the multitude of enquiries that came her way whenever she found herself in the processing areas.

Amy watched as her best friend walked away. Oh Carol, we have to get you out of your shell.

After another tedious day of what seemed an endless list of spreadsheets to compare and merge into customer letters, Carol wandered to the lift and pressed the down button. Over the last few months, the longer hours of the four-day week gradually replaced liberation with tiredness and fatigue. Thankfully, Thursday nights signalled the start of her weekend and when Amy moved to a four-day week, it meant they could start their weekends together.

Amy was the beauty queen of the two, blessed with long blonde hair, blue eyes you could swim in and a huge cleavage. She had a sense of style attracting every man she happened to breeze past whereas Carol was the total opposite. She kept her hair short, never dressed up, always comfortable in just jeans and a t-shirt, making her invisible. Together they proved, opposites attract and waded through life's difficulties with a smile and a glass of wine. They relied on each other for support, understanding and laughs, no matter what life threw at them.

I wondered where you were. I nearly asked that good looking, blonde haired security guard I like to check for a woman in distress on the second floor. Amy threaded her arm through Carol's as they walked out of the front doors into a warm June night.

I got nabbed as I packed up, questions, questions and more questions! It's always the bloody same when I try to leave. Carol fished about in her bag for her sunglasses, mumbling to herself, eventually finding them and fixing them squarely over her red and tired eyes. I will charge them for answers, in the future. She sniggered at her own joke. I'd be a millionaire overnight.

It's why they call you 'the Oracle'.

Yeah, amongst other things, Amy, most of which, you know are unrepeatable. Come on let's forget about this place and go get dinner.

Amy let go of her arm and the two of them practically ran down the street, away from the office to Amy's parked car.

Later that night as Amy cooked chicken pasta for dinner, Carol switched on Amy's laptop. Damn I can't get it to log on, bloody thing keeps beeping at me. Amy, have you changed your password again?

Yeah sorry, it needed repairing. Got a virus or some kind of bug and it gave me the dreaded blue screen of death. The woman in the repair shop didn't appreciate the password as 'huge knockers'.

Carol laughed at her ever-forthright friend. What did you change it to?

Well hung.

Carol coughed her mouthful of wine across the coffee table. Oh my god, are you serious?

Why not? Amy peeked around the kitchen wall, her arms extended so she could carry on stirring the sauce. It's my password, it can be whatever I want it to be. She gave Carol a cheeky grin before returning to the cooking.

Carol typed the letters into the keyboard and the laptop sprung to life. She opened the Internet and logged on to the lottery website.

Amy wandered into the living room with two bowls, handed one to Carol and sat down on the couch next to her. Did we get two or three numbers?

I don't know. It's taking its time to log in. I tell you, Amy, sometimes it's so slow, I'd be better off walking to the shop to check the numbers. Carol picked up the bowl and lifted a spoon full of pasta. Mmm this is good, thanks.

Why's the screen pink? Amy asked shovelling her dinner into her mouth while leaning across the couch.

No idea, hang on. Carol put her bowl down and clicked the icon to reload the screen.

The screen instantly reloaded and again went pink, but this time a message appeared which read. Congratulations you are a winner.

Does it normally do that? Amy asked, as she filled their glasses with more wine. Carol handled their account, apart from picking numbers, Amy never logged in.

No, it's never done that before. Carol shrugged her shoulders and shook her head. I remember seeing something about maintenance on the site, some kind of update but at least we know its three numbers. Carol smirked and picked up the half-empty bowl. It's dramatic for a tenner.

Can you check the ticket and see which line won, cos I think we've got some lucky dips on this week.

Carol clicked on the view tickets link at the side of the page and filtered it by groups of lotto tickets. Their previous tickets appeared in date order. Carol clicked on the link for Wednesdays draw and a virtual ticket appeared with four rows of numbers with a message at the side. Please contact the lotto hotline number.

Why do we need to do that for a tenner? Amy slouched back on the couch sipping her wine having finished her pasta. Don't we just need to press the collect winnings button?

That's normally what we do. It must be the same update that made it go pink or a glitch. This site is always a little temperamental, stressed Carol. She clicked the check ticket button and virtual fireworks burst around their ticket. What the?

Oh my god. Oh my god. LOOK. Amy screamed, her voice increasing an octave every second. It's not three numbers. It's SIX.

Carol stared at the screen, numb, with her mouth wide open, disbelieving her friend's words. She glanced across at Amy whose screams died away. The two of them started to cry tears of joy and shock.

Amy threw a box of tissues over to Carol after taking a handful for herself. Should we phone the number, she stuttered. You do it. She threw her phone across to Carol nearly hitting her in the face. Honestly, please, you phone, I've no idea what we should say.

Carol dialled the number displayed on the screen, her hands shaking from the excitement. She put the phone on loudspeaker so Amy could hear the conversation.

Claim line. The voice at the other end sounded young and cheerful.

Hi. Carol stuttered, shrugging her shoulders and made faces at Amy. Erm yeah, we've got a message on our online account to call this number.

Do you have your ticket number?

Yes. Carol read the long ticket number from the screen.

And it's an online ticket?

Yes, it is.

Is the account in your name?

Carol rolled her eyes. The questions seemed pointless and endless. It's in my name, Carol Thornton and Amy Sturridge.

Okay. Can you confirm your date of birth?

August 1st, 1965.

And your password is?

Carol looked up and grinned at Amy, knowing what came next. It's the mad woman.

Amy shook her head chuckling at Carol's password choice.

Thanks. I'm just going to pop you on hold for one second.

Amy looked at her friend, nervously wringing her fingers together. Does it tell you how many winners there are?

Maybe in the prize breakdown, why?

See how much we've won.

Carol ran the mouse over to the lotto tab and loaded the page. The side bar showed a section for prize breakdown, she clicked on it and the two of them waited, as the page appeared. Carol slowly dragged the mouse down to reveal the details. They looked at each other, then back to the screen.

There were twenty-six winners of the £2.44 million jackpot, giving each winning ticket £96,846. Neither girl said a word, both stared at each other, mouths wide open in shock, then back to the screen for confirmation of what they thought they saw.

Hello, hello. Are you there?

Yes. Yes, we're here, shouted Carol.

Congratulations. I confirm your ticket as a winner.

The girls jumped up and down, screaming and throwing wine all over the place, including the ceiling, table and the couch, but neither cared. The operator listened for a break in their joy.

This is a shared jackpot between twenty-six winners this week and it's under the £500,000 limit. We've arranged to transfer payment of the winnings directly to the account we withdraw the weekly funds from. It should be there within the next twenty-four hours and we've sent the confirmation to your email address.

Thank you, cried Carol, her eyes beginning to mist over. Thank you so much.

Once again, congratulations. If there's a problem with the transaction, please contact us on this number and we'll investigate.

Carol hung up the phone. Oh my god, Amy... What just happened?

Call me stupid but I think we just won enough money to live out some of our dreams. This calls for something far better than white wine. Amy jumped up off the couch and ran into the kitchen yelling, I think I've got some fizzy stuff. She came back with a bottle and two fresh glasses. Here hold these.

Carol took the glasses from her and tried to stop her hands shaking with little success. Amy wrestled with the plastic cork. It leapt from her fingers with a whoosh, followed by an immediate flow of bubbly liquid as she shook the bottle up and down. Carol pushed the glasses under the flow, trying to fill them before Amy splattered her with anymore.

I've always wanted to do that. Amy giggled mischievously. I wondered what it felt like to shake the bottle everywhere like they do when a sports star wins something. She took a half-full glass. Here's to Ninety-Six Thousand different reasons to be happy.

They both took long swigs before laughing.

Amy refilled their glasses before sinking into her couch. I just can't believe it.

Totally mind blowing, exclaimed Carol. And we won with so many other people. Oh, I bet there are a few mad folks out there, thinking they'd won millions and millions.

You've got to laugh, we're happy with a tenner. Amy drank more of the bubbly, allowing them to tickle her nose. What's that say about us two? She snorted at her own question before raising her glass again. Still, it's a lot of money and it's the chance you take when you play.

I'm not complaining. Carol shook her head before nudging Amy's elbow. I always dream of winning millions but I'm happy with a little, enough to make everything a little better and it's far better than nothing.

What you going to spend it on? asked Amy.

Oh god. I've no idea. Carol held on to the glass in her hand tightly, swirling the liquid round and round, in danger of letting it fly out of the glass. Mmm, I guess I'll probably use some of it to do boring stuff, like paying off a few credit card bills and Steven will want some. Shame we couldn't give up the day jobs. Carol re- filled her glass. But, £48,000 each is FAR better than a tenner...What are you going to do?

Amy ignored her friend as she drifted across to the storage unit by the TV. She turned a few minutes later grinning, with a box of milk tray and a Terry's chocolate orange in her hand. I've been saving these, but what the heck, let's celebrate and stuff ourselves. We can buy more now and there's more fizzy stuff in the kitchen, the spare bottle from my birthday celebrations. She handed the milk tray to Carol to unwrap while she opened the chocolate orange. I suppose like you, I'll probably help, David with his uni costs. Put a little aside to give him each year 'cos I know he's finding it tough. I'd like to give him some money just to blow and spend on things he's been looking at. I hear him talking about a new laptop, phone, all the gizmos everyone else has, and it's been tough not being able to help him, but now I can.

Amy threw back a full glass of fizzy wine and topped up their glasses again before picking up the chocolates. Then like you, probably pay off the credit cards and do something to treat myself.

Like what? asked Carol, shoving a piece of chocolate orange into her mouth. You mean like plastic surgery? You keep talking about it and you said when you could afford it.

Amy swallowed her chocolate too quick nearly choking at the suggestion. No way, I'm too much of a feerty, even if I wish I could get rid of this. She grabbed her stomach, tugging it up and down playfully. It would be nice to do it the easy way for once. She smirked then raised her eyebrows at Carol. More like a holiday, something we could do together.

That's a good idea. Where would you go?

Ignoring the question, Amy topped their glasses up, wringing the last drop of fizzy wine from the bottle. She threw the empty into the recycling bin and opened the next, careful this time not to shake it too much. I dunno. I could go away somewhere warm anytime, but I'm thinking of a once in a lifetime thing. Something out of the ordinary, something you would only do because you won some money. Amy sat down on the couch beside Carol and tucked her legs up. Do you know what I mean? Something, that's normally out of reach, not only because you don't have the money, but it's not the norm or, not what's expected.

In that case, what have you always wanted to do? Where have you always wanted to go?

I don't really know, replied Amy. I stayed in lots of places and saw lots of sights when I went backpacking as a teenager. It's not about the place, more about the experience. Now we can afford it, maybe it could be somewhere, a bit posh, but not so we don't fit in and not as cheap as Butlins either or camping. You know what I mean, something special.

Carol nodded her head. Now that sounds interesting.

The next morning Carol checked her bank balance once her headache cleared enough for her to see straight. The £96,000 sat in her account as promised, still not believing they'd won more than the original tenner. She looked at it for a while as she drank the first of many coffees. Eventually she clicked on the internal transfer link and within seconds, sent half to Amy's account. Carol texted her, to tell her she'd halved the money and to find out what time she intended to come around, before rising from the couch to get dressed.

Amy arrived at twelve o'clock as arranged to get a lift into town to attend a friend's birthday lunch. Organised weeks ago, but now, neither girl felt like going, they wanted to go shopping instead. Carol promised to go shopping after lunch, but only if Amy kept quiet about their win, allowing them time to let it sink