‘Excuse me, sorry.’ I swerved past an older lady.
‘Oh, Lydia!’ Mrs Daniels’s eyes lit up.‘My athlete’s foot is much better – thank you!’
‘Oh, no problem, Mrs Daniels.We’ve all been there!’
‘I’ve been meaning to ask you—’
Oh, God, please, not now.
Could I tell her I was running late for something?I really should just say it –Mrs Daniels, we’ll have to talk later, I’m running late.But a voice inside whispered,She’ll be so disappointed. What if it’s something urgent?
The words stuck in my throat.I couldn’t say them.
‘Sure!’ I turned, jogging backwards, palms sweating, even as Mrs Daniels’s eyes crinkled with a smile.
‘My husband still won’t come to the gym.He hates exercising in front of people.’
‘Understandable!’
‘What can I get him to do at home?For his mobility, you know.’
‘Sure.There are plenty of things you could do—’
‘Something simple.’
‘Sure.’
‘Not too challenging.’
‘Yep, I’ve got just the thing.’
‘Angel.’
Five minutes later, I’d ordered resistance bands from my Amazon and explained how to strengthen his knees, quads and glutes.I’d never met Mr Daniels, but I knew how much she worried.
‘What would we do without you?’ she said, patting my cheek.
‘Happy to help,’ I smiled, twitching.
I bolted up the stairs, past the Olympic-sized swimming pool, dodging Tom and Esme, the inseparable married couple, on the stairs.Me and the other PTs joked they were basically one person now.
‘Sorry!’ They said at the exact same time.
‘Tom.Esme.Tomesme,’ I muttered, skidding past Ryan leading a circuit session, giving him a quick wave, and bolted for the staff corridor, until my shoulder hit a hard shoulder.
Quinn Roberts.
He was a wall of a man, with huge shoulders, a bald head and a thick moustache.
‘Lydia!’ he grinned.‘Meant to ask—’
My eye twitched.I needed to leave.Do it.Tell him you’re running late for an appointment.Tell him your nan just died and you need to get to the funeral.Tell him you left the oven on, or you’re having an allergic reaction and you’re about to swell up like a balloon and float away.
Say anything.
But the words stuck in my throat.Again.
‘Shoot!’ I squeaked, panic fizzing in my chest.
