‘Well, I’ve spent my whole life trying to make my ar… mybottomsmaller. These girls appear to be intent on making theirs bigger?’
‘They’re on a glute journey…’
‘Right?’ I tried to look intelligent, while acceptingmyonly journey had been down to the village bakery for cake.
‘…and, once you get going here, once we sort you a programme, you’ll find the most effective glute exercises include lunges, glute bridges, kickbacks, side planks with leg raises, deadlifts and donkey side kicks…’
Kicked by a donkey? Well, there was a novelty. All I had to do was annoy the notoriously bad-tempered Judas in the field next to Mum’s garden, and I’d have a butt to be proud of.
‘I believe Mr Sattar has arranged a personal trainer for you?’ Franco said.
‘Not for me he hasn’t!’ I stared at Franco. ‘Hang on,whichMr Sattar?’
‘Mr George.’
‘I don’tthinkso.’ God, the last thing I wanted was some personal trainer shouting at me to shift up the ropes and push that big lump of metal around like some sort of gladiator.
Franco took out his phone, scrolling through until he found what he wanted. ‘Yep, reduced membership fees and five complimentary PT sessions.’
‘PT sessions?’ Images of myself at Beddingfield C of E Infant School racing clockwise round the hall en masse flashed before my eyes. ‘I’m not back at school doing PT!’
‘Personal trainer, Ms Butterworth. It’s the club’s welcome to all professional team members. Midhope Town Football Club players all come here to train,’ he added proudly.
‘But I’m not in Midhope Town Football Club. I’m not inanyfootball club.’
‘No’ – he sniffed – ‘but you’re the best goal scorer Upper Merton Hockey Club has seen.’ Franco’s eyes passed down and over my faded black leggings and oversized T-shirt. ‘Apparently. So, you need to be nurtured.’
‘Nurtured?’ I felt like stamping my foot. ‘Whatareyou talking about?’
‘Mr George is very good at scouting for new talent. He’s picked out amateur cricketers who’ve gone on to play for Yorkshire at Headingley. And a tennis player who?—’
‘Good for him,’ I snapped. The only thingI’mgoing to be playing is Tiddlywinks with my daughter. (Actually, probably the last thing Lola would be wanting to play with me these days, I realised with a pang.)
‘Look, tell you what, Jess…’
‘It’s Jessica.’
‘Jessica, how about I show you all the fabulous facilities we have here at Fitness for Life? Our bio circuit, powered by Technogym, offering a revolutionary approach to fitness and designed to deliver a fully guided and personalised workout experience?’
‘Yes, why don’t you do that?’ I’d had enough, wanted to get back home to my final pudding experiment before presenting them all to Kamran, Fabian and the new head chef I was yet to meet.
‘Ah, Jess-i-ca.’ George Sattar in – relatively more – modest black shorts and black hoodie was bearing down on us, phone to his ear as he walked. ‘What do you think?’
‘What do I think about what?’ I wasn’t prepared to make this easy for the man.
‘My new gym.’
‘Yours? Allyours?’
‘A good share of it, yes.’ He grinned. ‘Has Franco shown you everything?’
‘Enough, to be honest.’
‘I’ve not shown youanythingyet.’ Franco frowned. ‘There’sloadsto see yet.’
‘Come on, Jess… Jess-i-ca… let me show you round the rest of the place.’ George smiled down at me and, for the first time, I could see why the man was lauded as a good-looking bloke. A catch. Wasn’t that what Serena had been going on about in The Dog and Duck last week?
‘What’s all this about you arranging a personal trainer for me…?’ I broke off as George stopped walking, frowning slightly as a man came towards us.
