Page 12 of The Little Board Game Café

‘Only on your behalf.’

‘Perhaps we’ll get a chance to talk to them later.’

The only other man in the group appeared to be in even worse shape than Emily. He was short, had a rather large belly – mind you, she wasn’t in any position to judge – and was sweating already, even though it wasn’t a particularly warm evening and they hadn’t even started running. Had he filled in the medical form? Emily wondered. He looked awkward, on the fringes of the group, like he already knew he didn’t belong. She knew how he felt.

‘Let’s say hello to that guy.’

Kate wrinkled her nose. ‘Not my type. Too short, too fat and too sweaty.’

‘Kate! Too judgmental. Anyway, you don’t have to fancy him. We could go and be nice.’

‘Suit yourself. I’ll go and do some stretching in the eye-line of those other two.’

Emily left her to it and went over to the sweaty man.

‘Hi, I’m Emily. Is this your first time too?’

‘Rob,’ he said. ‘Second, actually. I came last week. Nearly killed me.’

Emily gulped. She’d hoped it would be easy.

Clipboard Woman had finished doing the rounds now and barked at everyone to get into a circle. Then she asked for the ‘helpers’ to join her in the middle. The two reasonably good-looking men and the four women they’d been talking to jogged over to her and introduced themselves to the group. They’d be running alongside the beginners, Clipboard Woman explained, and making sure that no one got left behind. The group would mainly stick to quieter streets, but the route would also cross a couple of busier roads, so everyone should be careful. But first, she announced, it was time for a warm-up.

She began by running gently on the spot, raising her knees up to waist height. Emily copied as best she could. Next, she had them all skipping sideways round in the circle, changing direction on her command. Emily felt like she was back in a PE lesson in primary school, and was grateful for her t-shirt and leggings. At least it was better than vest and pants.

When the warm-up was over and Clipboard Woman was having some sort of discussion with her helpers, Kate elbowed Emily in the ribs.

‘Aye, aye,’ she said, nodding towards a clump of trees on the far edge of the park where a tall male figure was running over, dark, curly hair bouncing with every step. ‘Your type.’

‘He’s not. Peter is my type.’

Kate harrumphed.

‘Sorry I’m late. Overran at work. As usual.’ The newcomer flashed the broadest smile at Clipboard Woman, who visibly softened. He held out his hand, and she slapped him playfully and laughed.

Kate nudged Emily. ‘Bit of a charmer too.’

They set off. One of the women helpers came over and jogged alongside Emily.

‘We need to have a conversation,’ she said, ‘so you can gauge if you’re running at the right speed. If you can’t talk as you run, you’re going too fast.’

Making conversation with this svelte, Lycra-clad goddess proved rather difficult. For one thing, no matter how slowly they ran, Emily was out of breath. For another, they had little in common.

‘What do you do for a living?’ said the Lycra goddess.

It was like a first date, Emily thought. The small talk, bog standard questions and general awkwardness. Thank goodness those days were behind her.

Between pants, Emily told her companion that she’d recently lost her job – she missed out the bit about her fiancé being the one who’d made her redundant – and added that she wanted to run a café.

‘You’ll need to find a place where there’s good football.’

‘Football?…I don’t…want…to run…a sports…café.’

‘No, footfall. You know, plenty of passing trade.’

It seemed that running was affecting her hearing as well as her ability to hold a conversation. Fortunately, at that moment, Clipboard Woman, at the front of the group, suddenly slowed to a walk. Like dominoes falling, the change of pace rippled down through the group and, with relief, Emily slowed too.

‘Two minutes of walking to catch your breath,’ said the Lycra goddess.