Chapter 33
The gym was more or less deserted; almost everyone had by this time given up exercising and gravitated towards the party downstairs. Nancy, clutching her impractical shoes, padded barefoot past the darkened aerobics studio - where she wouldn’t be joining the classes run by Sulphuric Sadie - and began investigating the fitness equipment.
One of the rowing machines was occupied by a fit-looking student type with a Walkman clamped to his ears. Envious of his tanned legs, but not of those scarily bulging calf muscles, Nancy made her way over to the running machines and cross-trainers. A middle-aged woman with a huge bosom bouncing up and down inside a baggy pink T-shirt was puffing and panting her way up some kind of never-ending ladder.
‘It’s a Stairmaster,’ she said breathlessly, greeting Nancy with a cheerful smile and sensing her bemusement. ‘Ghastly, of course, but does wonders for your bum. It’s like climbing mountains without the worry of slipping into a ravine and having to be hoisted out by Mountain Rescue. Thinking of joining the club, then?’
‘Well, yes.’ It was such a relief to talk to someone friendly again. ‘I mean, I already have.’
‘Oh, you’ll love it. Jolly nice shoes, by the way.’ Using a white towel to mop her perspiring face, the woman nodded at the stilettos Nancy was cradling like kittens. ‘This is a great place. I was always joining gyms then giving up on them, but here’s different. Have you met Connor yet?’
‘Um . . . yes. Actually, he’s my next-door neighbour.’ Nancy prayed she wouldn’t blush.
‘Is he really? I say, lucky old you!’ The woman beamed, her legs still pumping away. ‘All I’ve got next door is a neurotic music teacher and her five yowling cats. Connor’s a gem, isn’t he? Half the women who come here are in love with him - whew, that’s it, time’s up!’ Heaving a noisy sigh of satisfaction, she hit the Stop button and jumped down from the Stairmaster. ‘Fifteen minutes, that’s my lot. Now I can go and have a lovely glass of wine as a reward. Maybe see you in the bar,’ she said happily as she headed off for a shower. ‘In case you don’t recognise me with my clothes on, I’ll be the one with the wonderfully toned bum.’
Nancy spent some time wandering around, investigating the mysteries of the various scary-looking machines. There was a row of exercise bikes that had computer games connected to them, requiring pedal power in order to function. There was a climbing wall with sticky-out hand and footholds that she could only too easily envisage herself falling off. The weight-lifting equipment was scary. A punchbag looked fun. There were hundreds of photographs pinned up around the walls depicting club members in a variety of poses. Smiling, Nancy spotted a jaunty photo of the woman she had just been talking to, labelled ‘Magnificent Mags collects the Krispy Kreme Doughnut award for most enthusiastic exerciser of the week. Sadly, Mags won’t be winning it again as she didn’t offer prize-giver Connor O’Shea a single doughnut’.
There really weren’t that many fitness clubs like the Lazy B. Nancy, thinking that she might like it here after all, wondered if Mags had a bit of a secret crush on Connor herself . . . Now, where did that corridor lead to, past the glass-fronted dance studio and off to the left?
The corridor led to the back stairs. A spiral staircase winding down to the ground floor would take her back to the party. Still clutching her shoes, Nancy began to descend the staircase, pausing only when she heard a voice she recognised.
Then a second voice.
She was almost directly above Connor’s office, Nancy realised, glancing out of the window and getting her bearings. And the door to the office was open, enabling her to overhear every word of Connor’s conversation with Mia.
‘. . . you just can’t go around ordering people to do things because you want them to happen.’ Connor was sounding exasperated.
‘I’m not ordering you, I’m just helpfully suggesting you invite her out to dinner,’ Mia wheedled. ‘Come on, Dad, I know she’d say yes. You’d have a great time.’
Three-quarters of the way up the spiral staircase, Nancy froze. A waft of smoke drifted up the stairwell, indicating that Connor had just lit a cigarette.
‘Mia, give this a rest, will you? It isn’t going to happen. Nancy’s a nice person, I like her as a friend, but that’s as far as it goes. For one thing, she’s only just separated from her husband. And even if I did fancy her rotten, I wouldn’t get involved because women in that situation are just too . . . vulnerable. It wouldn’t be fair on Nancy, or on me.’
Nancy was barely able to hear him now; the buzzing in her ears was so loud she felt as if she’d been dragged underwater. What if she fainted and toppled down the staircase, landing in a heap outside Connor’s office? Oh God, how was she going to get out of here without stumbling on the stairs?
‘You don’t fancy her at all?’ Mia sounded accusing. ‘I thought you did.’
‘And you’re only sixteen,’ Connor retaliated, ‘which just goes to show how much you know. Listen, Nancy’s self-confidence has taken a knock. If I can make her feel that little bit better about herself, I will. But it doesn’t mean anything. Basically, there are some girls you fancy and some you don’t, and nothing anyone can do will change that. I’m not interested in Nancy, OK? She’s not my type and she’s never going to be my type, so can we please close this conversation and head on back to the party?’
‘More fool you,’ Mia said scornfully. ‘You’d rather mess around with Sadie the human cyanide pill.’
‘OK, now pay attention.’ Clearly tiring of the argument, Connor’s tone was brusque. ‘You may have stopped me seeing someone I do like, but I’m damned if I’ll let you bully me into seeing someone I don’t.’
Nancy forced her legs to move. Clinging to the banister, she crept silently back up the spiral staircase. At least the stairs, made of steel rather than wood, didn’t squeak and give her away.
Retreating back through the gym, she heard the student-type on the rowing machine singing along with his Walkman. Evidently thinking he was alone, he was warbling ambitiously along to REM. As she sneaked past him he closed his eyes and bellowed, ‘Everybody hurrrrrts . . . sometiiiiime. ’
Nancy quelled the urge to run up behind him and shove him off his rowing machine. That would hurt him. Jolly well serve him right for singing one of her favourite songs so hideously off-key.
‘I’m getting really cross now,’ Mia grumbled. ‘I gave Marcus my Dolly Parton CD two hours ago and he still hasn’t played it. Why do we have to listen to this boring old rubbish anyway?’
‘It’s not boring old rubbish, it’s U2.’ Connor found it hard to believe his own daughter had such tragic taste in music. ‘And you’re on your own with Dolly Parton.’
‘But she’s great! If Marcus would just play the CD, you’d—’
‘We’d still hate it,’ said Nancy, ‘and there’s nothing you can do to make us change our minds.’
Mia looked as if her favourite teddy bear had just punched her on the nose. Her expression wounded, she said, ‘I thought you were my friend.’
‘I am.’ Nancy checked her watch. ‘But you can’t force me to like Dolly Parton.’
‘Well said.’ Delighted, Connor clapped her on the shoulder.
Just like Mia can’t force you to like me, thought Nancy. Aloud she said, ‘And now I have to go.’
‘Oh, stay a bit longer,’ Mia begged. ‘If you hang on for another hour we can share a cab.’
‘Thanks, but I’ll head off now. It’s been great. Bye.’
As Nancy headed for the exit, she held her head high. Inwardly she might be a cringing ball of disappointment and humiliation, but on the outside she was serene, ice-cool and in control. Nobody was going to know how she felt, and, on the bright side, at least she hadn’t made a full-scale fool of herself.
OK, so eavesdroppers might never hear good of themselves, but sometimes it was worth it to hear the truth.
Sadie Sylvester, passing her in the doorway, said with a smirk, ‘Home alone?’
Bitch. Silicone-breasted bitch. Flashing a sunny smile, Nancy said, ‘Absolutely. You should try it some time. And you’ve got lipstick on your chin.’
‘What are you doing?’ Mystified, Nancy found Carmen stretched out across the navy sofa, sucking a pen and poring over a copy of Time Out.
Carmen pulled the end of the pen out of her mouth with a plop and said, ‘Moving.’
‘What?’
Sitting up, Carmen showed her the adverts she’d circled in Apartments to Let. ‘I’ve made a few appointments. Will you come along with me after work tomorrow? Take a look at them?’
Nancy peeled off her coat and plonked herself down on the sofa next to Carmen. ‘Why?’
Rennie, lying on his side on the floor watching Citizen Kane, said, ‘She hates us all.’
‘Not all of you.’ Carmen stretched out one foot and prodded her toes against his jutting hipbone. ‘Only the ones who won’t let you watch what you want on TV because they just have to watch ancient films on video.’
Taking a closer look at the ads Carmen had ringed, Nancy said, ‘Clerkenwell? Good grief, where’s that?’ Her head jerked up. ‘Are you serious?’
‘She’s barking,’ said Rennie, earning himself a kick. ‘Ow. And cruel to flatmates.’
‘Shut up,’ Carmen told him, ‘it’s something I have to do.’ She turned to Nancy. ‘After the Joe thing. I never want to go through that again.’
‘But you aren’t really moving out?’ Nancy was worriedly reading the ads for one-bedroomed flats in unglamorous locations.
‘Of course not. Not properly moving out. But . . . OK, it’s like with Nick and Annie from work.’ Carmen waggled her hands and said falteringly, ‘They’re just so nice, and it’s not that I fancy Nick or anything, because I don’t, but I don’t want them to know where I live, in case it, you know, spoils things between us. But I’ve been to their flat three times now,’ she hurried on, ‘and it’s starting to get embarrassing because it’s about time I invited them back to mine.’
‘So you’re going to rent one and pretend it’s where you live?’
‘Somewhere really grotty and horrible,’ Rennie said with relish. ‘With cockroaches the size of terriers.’
‘I’ve lived in cheap flats before.’ Carmen was defiant. ‘So have you. They don’t have to have cockroaches. You can still make them nice. Remember the first bedsitter Spike and I got together? Couldn’t get cheaper than that.’
‘The one with the rats in the cupboard under the kitchen sink? Oh yes, that was a palace. If that’s the kind of place you’re after, better buy yourself a pair of wellies,’ said Rennie. ‘Rats find it hard to chew through the rubber.’
‘Do they find it easier to chew through videotapes of old Hollywood movies?’ Carmen turned back to Nancy. ‘So will you come along with me tomorrow?’
‘Of course I will.’ Nancy understood why Carmen needed to do this.
‘Can I come too?’ said Rennie.
‘Oh yes, that’d be really helpful. Nobody would ever guess who Carmen Todd was if she turned up with Rennie Todd in tow. Now shut up and watch your stupid film, while I ask Nancy how she got on tonight at the club.’
‘Great,’ lied Nancy. ‘Everyone was really nice. Well, apart from Silicone Sadie, obviously. I’ve got an appointment with one of the instructors on Sunday morning to have a fitness assessment and learn how to use the machines.’
There was no way in the world she could tell Carmen the humiliating truth about what had happened this evening, not with Rennie in the room.
‘Sex,’ Rennie announced from the floor. ‘Trust me, that’s all you need to keep fit.’
Tuh, thought Nancy, chance would be a fine thing.