They began in the room that Laurie had seen from the street. One of the running machines and an exercise bike were already occupied, but their users, sweaty, red-faced, were both plugged into headphones that presumably played music to match the videos playing on the screens in front of them. They were oblivious to the pair standing in the doorway. It was as good a place as any to begin their conversation.
Laurie was determined to retain control. ‘So, I guess I’ve got to learn to call you Simon.’
‘Er, yes. Sorry about that. It just seemed … well, that is to say, I was told it would be … wiser.’
‘Wiser?’
‘Well, I was just meant to, you know, to get to know you. He said it would be better if you couldn’t track me down afterwards. Paul Collingwood was just the first name that popped into my head.’
‘He?’
‘What?’
‘The “he” who said it would be wiser.’
‘You mean the Brian from the wall there?’
‘Yes.’ Paul/Simon caught her eye and blushed once again. ‘I’d no idea he was going to follow us down there. Honestly. It was horrible.’
Laurie studied the face of this man she’d almost loved. When she’d thought he was Dominic, at least it all made sense, in some perverted, horrible way. Now what was she meant to believe: that he was some sort of bit player, a pawn being given his directions by that shaven-headed creep?
‘Is there somewhere we can talk properly? Your office perhaps?’
‘I don’t have one. This is it really, apart from the weights area and the changing rooms. It’s really just for hardcore fanatics.’
‘No swimming pool then?’
‘Er, no. That was another lie. I’m sorry. To tell the truth, I’d never expected to see you again. When I did, I had to come up with a reason for being out of touch.’