CLEANER II: Chapter One - Part Four

MELISSA

“Maybe we should start off by laying out exactly what we want to achieve,” said Dahlia.

“Er, okay. Sure,” I said.

We were both quite inebriated now and that had given me a healthy flush of confidence; almost as much as the flush I'd got watching her wolfing down that gigantic meal. I’d never seen her eat like that before; with ravenous eyes that drew in everything on the plate. But Dahlia clearly had some reservations, and why wouldn’t she? I’d never, ever heard of a situation that we were walking into – not in real life or on TV. There were kids films about this kind of thing, sort of, but they were always dosed with saccharine and magical wishes. Undergoing a slow, methodical, purposeful process of physical transformation was so far outside the box that expressing the concepts verbally was close to unviable.

I had the notion that this was the one conversation we would have about this; ever; that after this it would never come as close to the surface again. We would act on it and continue to make adjustments, possibly in character, but a frank conversation as Melissa and Dahlia, really looking at our intentions in the gleam of the lamplight... it felt too conscious for more than a one off. As it was, I didn’t think we’d be getting this far even if we weren’t drunk.

With that in mind, and seeing Dahlia’s hesitation, I decided to leap forward. “We said we were going to swap places for the duration of our trip. We said we would stay away for several months.”

She nodded.

“The whole time we’re here, we’ll become one another; wearing appropriate clothes and calling one another by the wrong names.”

“The right names.”

Dahlia startled me with that but her playful smile brought on one of my own.

“We’ll dye our hair,” she said, “and have it restyled so that I become brunette and you become blond. My blond hair is made up of highlights anyway so that shouldn’t be too hard.”

I fingered the ends of my hair. “And I’ll start wearing contact lenses all the time, while you...”

“I’ll wear my glasses.”

I nodded and started to speak again but the waiter interrupted us, asking what we wanted for dessert. The salad had gone down better than expected, leaving a pleasant thread of virtuousness through me, but I did want something else. Having said that, I wanted to resist too. I wanted to take this rampant bull by its horns and ride it all the way. Dahlia was clearly fully intent on putting on weight. She’d already ruined her perfect figure, edging it toward normalcy instead of super model flawlessness. I could do the opposite. With her help, I could become slim. Or slimmer at least.

“Nothing for me thanks,” I said.

“Triple chocolate sundae please,” said Dahlia, licking her lips.

The waiter nodded and withdrew.

“I’m going to need a personal trainer,” I said, “if I’ve got any hope of really becoming thin.”

“Of course.”

“That’ll be expensive.”

Dahlia gave a brief limp-wristed wave. “Money isn’t an issue. I’ve got more than we need for this; really.” She took a draught of wine. “Really. We’re doing this; we’re going to do it properly. You can have two personal trainers; membership of any gyms you like. You’re going to be Dahlia Western. You’re going to live like a queen. You’ll have the best room in the next hotel; everything you need.”

“Wow.”

“Just so long as you live up to your side of the deal.”

“Which is?”

“To become me,” said Dahlia. “To treat me as though I were you.”

Mostly to myself I murmured, “The whole time we’re away... Every day... All day.”

“That’s right. And meanwhile, I’ll be you. I’ll be Melissa.” She grinned excitedly, letting out a hiss of half-laugh air. “I’ll dye my hair and have it cut like yours and then I’m going to eat and eat and eat. That’s all I’m going to be doing.”

She looked off, imagining that and I shook my head, marvelling at this woman and the drive of intent she had to do such a weird and self-harmful thing. Somebody should shake her and tell her to stop being such an idiot, but that sure as hell wasn’t going to be me. No way. I had an all-expenses-paid Grecian holiday ahead of me and some realistic motivation to lose weight and better myself for the first time in my life. I could even lose five stone and meet some handsome prince to whisk me away to a new life away from Robert. Anything could happen.

Anything was happening.

“We’ll have our hair done tomorrow morning,” said Dahlia. I’ve already found out where we can go. Someone expensive and reliable. Then we’ll do the rest of the swap; change into our new clothes. We’ll become each other. Then we’ll get a taxi to the other hotel we’re going to be staying in, so that when we arrive we’re already in our new roles.”

Dahlia’s dessert came. She tucked in and I watched her careless manner, the chocolate going round her mouth, while I sipped my wine. We didn’t say anymore until she finished it off.

“And when we’ve swapped,” I said. “What then? Will we... hang out? Swim in the pool? Go to the beach?”

Dahlia looked thoughtful. “I don’t think that would be... appropriate,” she said. “I’m not quite sure how we’ll do it yet but... well... no offence to you, but Melissa works for Dahlia. They aren’t pals. I think the new Melissa will need to know her place and keep a low profile; show the proper deference.”

I smiled, tempering it so that my mirth at the hilarity of this didn’t shine too brightly. “I think you’re right Dahlia,” I replied. “I think that the new Melissa should never forget who is the wealthy woman and who is the cleaner.”