Chapter 23
JESS
While Robyn was putting Joel through his paces, I was in the process of putting myself through my own.
I hated gyms; hated the whole idea of stripping down to some sort of Lycra in order to get sweaty and disappointed in myself when I was unable to complete the full three sets of eight that appeared to be de rigueur on each scary-looking machine that stretched out in never-ending rows in front of me.
Fitness for Life (Fatness for Life, I’d scowled to myself as I handed in one of my gym passes) was a new all-singing, all-dancing, up-to-date gym in a much-refurbished and extended former gym in the town.
The Sattars had been behind it, apparently, this fabulous new place rising like a phoenix from the ashes where the old place had once stood before Covid had finished it off.
Goodness, I thought as the young, six-packed gym lackey insisted on taking me round and showing me ‘everything we’ve got’.
Not everything, I silently pleaded as I averted my eyes from the tiny white satin shorts of a hugely muscled man pulling some sort of weight on a trolly across an area of carpeted gym floor.
‘Blimey,’ I said to Franco (the name on his badge), ‘I could do with him to take my bins out every week.’
Franco didn’t smile. ‘Incorporating a sled push into your gym circuit is a great way to build lower body strength and power, engaging multiple muscle groups simultaneously and improving cardiovascular endurance,’ he intoned as I watched in fascination.
‘Fancy,’ I said. ‘Well, there you go.’
Not wanting to wait for the sweating, heaving man’s bits and pieces to appear fully from his tiny shorts as seemed inevitable when he grunted his way past me, I found I was, however, unable to avert my eyes from the toned, large but sculpted bums that all the gorgeous gym bunny girls appeared to be sporting through their tight Lycra shorts.
High ponytails swinging rhythmically in time with the swinging of heavy weights between their legs (a ha!
These must be the kettlebells the Sattar sisters-in-law had been discussing at Kamran’s), they broke off only to refer methodically to their phones.
I had a surreptitious feel at my own backside. Maybe mine wasn’t that big after all?
‘Is this the fashion now then?’ I asked.
‘Sorry?’
‘Well, I’ve spent my whole life trying to make my ar… my bottom smaller. These girls appear to be intent on making theirs bigger?’
‘They’re on a glute journey…’
‘Right?’ I tried to look intelligent, while accepting my only 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, which Mr Sattar?’
‘Mr George.’
‘I don’t think so.’ 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 in any football 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. ‘What are you 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 thing I’m going 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? All yours?’
‘A good share of it, yes.’ He grinned. ‘Has Franco shown you everything?’
‘Enough, to be honest.’
‘I’ve not shown you anything yet.’ Franco frowned. ‘There’s loads to 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.
‘George… Jess.’
‘Rob.’ George appeared unnecessarily curt as Rob Traynor, the man who’d sorted kit out for me to be able to join in with the hockey game at Upper Merton training session, joined us. Carole Moorhouse’s husband.
‘Jess, good to see you.’ Rob bent to kiss my cheek. ‘So, ready for training tomorrow night?’
‘I guess so.’ I was going to be positive. I wanted to do this. I might not want to do this gym lark that George was intending I should, but I hadn’t half enjoyed being back on the hockey pitch.
‘Oh, good!’ Both men spoke as one.
‘Come on, Jess, I’ll show you round properly and then buy you a coffee.’ George nodded in the man’s direction, turning his back on him.
The thought of a coffee and bun kept me going as George, obviously proud of his new gym, took me on a guided tour.
‘OK, you win.’ I felt a stirring of something like enthusiasm.
How I was going to fit in visits to the gym as well as train for the hockey team once I was up at The White House every day, I wasn’t quite sure.
But I was going to do it. I could come with Mum.
We could do classes together and use the spa facilities.
‘Coffee?’ We’d settled in the corner of the little café area, the seats comfortable and welcoming. ‘A bun?’
‘Lov… No, no thanks.’ I was going to start as I meant to go on.
‘You know, Jess, you have such a lovely smile when you relax and… well, smile.’ George placed two cappuccinos on the table and immediately broke open the chocolate muffin he’d bought.
‘Bit personal that, isn’t it?’
‘You’re not very good at accepting compliments, are you?’ George bit into his muffin and chewed contemplatively, his brown eyes never shifting from my own.
‘Can’t say I’ve had many recently.’
‘Well, you are a bit scary,’ George said seriously.
I felt tears threaten. I didn’t want to be scary; I wanted to be open, welcoming. Loved.
‘I think you’ve had a bit of a bad time recently?’ George went on.
‘What are you now, my counsellor?’
‘There you go, always combative.’
When I didn’t know how to reply to that, George went on. ‘Lisa said.’
‘What did Mum say?’ I bristled, hating the thought of my mum and all the Sattars discussing me.
‘How you’ve always been there for her. And for Robyn and Sorrel. That you’ve had to be a second mum to Sorrel when Lisa was ill. You’ve fostered kids, worked at that home…’
‘What is this? This Is Your Life?’ I scowled, and George laughed.
‘And then that tosser of a husband of yours…’
I felt myself bristle once more. It was all right me calling Dean out, but I hated it when anyone else did. He was still Lola’s dad, after all.
‘He behaved badly at Kamran’s supper do. Hands all over Farrah.’
‘And I didn’t?’ I smiled. ‘I seem to remember I drank so much I slid under the table.’
‘Well, with a husband like that, I’m not surprised you turned to drink.’
‘And I seem to remember you weren’t totally sober yourself.’
‘I wasn’t in a good place.’
‘You weren’t overly helpful when I was fighting that plastic bag in Kamran’s hallway. You were laughing at me.’
‘Oh, Jess, you were so funny. Robyn and I were laughing with you, not at you. Every time I think about it, I can’t help laughing again. Brought to your knees by an orange Sainsbury’s carrier bag.’
I found myself giggling. ‘I’d had a bad day: realised I no longer wanted Dean in my life even though I’d just taken him back. Knew Lola would be furious with me if I made him leave again. And I’d just been presented with a dog I didn’t want.’
‘A dog?’ George’s eyes opened in surprise.
‘Hmm. Arthur. Well, Dean wanted to call him Scargill, but… you know…’ I trailed off. ‘And, just so you know, before you start reporting me to the RSPCA, I do want him now. I love him.’
‘Once I sell my apartment and find the house in the countryside I’ve always wanted, I’ll have a dog myself.’
‘To go with the hens and bees?’
‘Absolutely.’ George paused and then held out a hand. ‘So, I reckon we got off to a bad start, you and me.’ He smiled. ‘Friends?’
‘Is all this just to ensure I’m going to be part of the hockey team?’ I smiled. ‘Because if it is, you can cut it out right now. I’ve already decided I’m going to be there every week.’
‘You’re very talented, Jess.’ He smiled. ‘And a training programme at the gym will only enhance that talent.’
‘OK. OK!’ I put up both hands. ‘I’ll sign on the dotted line.’
‘Look, we’re about to be related. I think you’ll be my step-niece once Kamran and your mum tie the knot. I love your mum…’
‘So do I.’ I felt tears threaten yet again at the thought of Mum moving out.
‘So, as you’re going to be officially family, you’re entitled to a very much reduced gym membership rate.’
‘Really, you don’t have to.’ I felt myself grow hot. ‘I don’t need charity.’
‘Stop always being on the defence, Jess. And yes, I do have to. It’s just another way to ensure you’re in the best possible place to get Upper Merton Hockey Club up the league tables…
’ George broke off, standing as a woman ran towards us.
An exceptionally beautiful woman, blonde hair swinging in a ponytail as she moved.
A woman who, without an obvious scrap of make-up, was absolutely stunning.
‘Oh, good! Georgie, darling, I didn’t realise you were down here today.
I’ve been messaging you all afternoon.’ She placed an arm proprietorially in George’s own, ignoring me completely.
‘Come on, let’s go. I want to show you the most divine house I’ve found.
You’re going to absolutely love it when you see it. ’