With A Little Help

With A Little Help

TODAY, I have a very special award to give out." Judy's excitement bubbled over as Mason, the slimming group leader, spoke.

She wriggled in her seat.

"It's taken a long time.

Three years and how many months, Judy?" "Five," she answered, unable to keep the pride out of her voice. "And two weeks."

Mason continued.

"I'm sure you'll all agree that nobody deserves to reach their target weight more than Judy."

The hall erupted with applause and cheers, louder than any Judy had experienced before. Her chest swelled.

She stepped up to receive her gold certificate, the hem of her brand new dress brushing her calves.

Judy punched her arms in the air.

She wasn't one for seeking attention, but she couldn't help herself.

Who'd have thought she could do it? Certainly not Frank.

But Frank wasn't here any more, and Judy was making her own decisions.

Mason had been so helpful. She couldn't have done it without his support, even though she'd mistrusted a male group leader at first.

Another man doing things for me, she'd thought.

He wasn't like that. He knew the plan inside out, of course, but rather than tell people what to do, he guided the members to find their own solutions.

Mason's congratulatory talk, the one she'd heard so many times before, continued. He asked her how she felt.

This was the hard part.

Physically, she was energised. But mentally? That was a story she didn't want to share. "It's so hard at our age, isn't it?" she said, looking at Mason and other members old enough to remember Andy Pandy.

A few said, "Hear, hear" and "Too right."

"But it's wonderful to buy dresses again." She did a twirl, the skirt flaring out like a ballroom gown.

"My first one since before I had Poppy."

More cheers. She grinned, sat and prayed he wouldn't ask anything else.

He didn't.