Chapter 1 #2
I never really got to explore the friendship I had with Rain as much as I would’ve liked, despite how well we got on.
The idea that Emma is so quickly and easily trying to form a tentative friendship with me makes me feel warm inside, something I will not take for granted.
I need all the friends I can get at this point in my life.
I won’t tell her about my living situation – I don’t want her pity – but other than that, I’m an open book.
I lift my eyes from my phone, and the corners of my mouth tilt up in a small smile.
“I’d love that.”
She grins. “Me too.”
She links her arm through mine and starts to steer me towards John’s office.
A few people in the main gym space look up at me curiously, but nobody seems judgy and nobody says anything.
Only one man’s stare lingers, a massive guy with arms like boulders and thighs like tree trunks.
He looks fierce, like some Viking brought forth from a historical romance book.
Despite his fearsome appearance, he’s very definitely staring at Emma, and I can practically see the hearts popping in front of his face as he watches her.
I suspect this guy is a bit of a gentle giant, if his smitten expression is anything to go by.
Emma seriously has no idea how beautiful and captivating she is as she swans through the space, seemingly without even noticing.
“Who’s your admirer?” She almost trips over the feet of one of the weight benches as she spins to face me.
“What? Who?” I think Emma may have learnt to whisper in a Chinook helicopter, because she is not quiet, and the man in question definitely hears her. He looks away, his cheeks reddening as he gets back to his workout, and I wince for him in solidarity.
“The cute Viking over by the cable machine,” I whisper back at a far more appropriate volume, our heads pressing together conspiratorially while I steer her back in our previous direction. “He had heart eyes all over the place as you walked past.”
She looks back over her shoulder to see who I mean. She’s about as subtle as a brick to the face, this one. She hurriedly turns back and, pointedly not looking at him again, ushers me out of the room.
“That’s Rob. He’s a regular, and aye, he’s lush, but come on.
He’s like a lawyer or an accountant or something.
He’d never want to go out with some tattooed, pierced, ADHD nightmare whose main goal each day is not to get fired by her uncle for, like, forgetting to lock the gym at night or something.
” She eyes me meaningfully as she says this, and I laugh as I realise she has, in fact, forgotten to lock the gym at night before.
“Besides, I’m aro, so I’m only up for the sexy stuff, and that guy has hopeless romantic written all over him. ”
“He definitely wants you, but I get what you mean. He looks a bit of a smitten kitten. Anyway, don’t worry about forgetting to lock up. I’ll happily work close every night, so I’ll always help you remember.”
“Don’t be daft, you’ve got your own life to live.” I don’t correct her assumption. Little does she know how wrong she is. She’ll soon see when I’m here from open til close every single day, whether I’m working or not. I’m about to become part of the furniture here at Fitness for All.
I knock tentatively on John’s door when Emma drops me off outside his office with a quick peck on my cheek.
If nothing else positive happens today, at least I met her.
We giggled a lot as she was showing me around and getting me sorted with all my uniform and stuff, now waiting in a pile behind reception for me.
Sometimes you meet people, and you just know without even trying they’re going to be a good friend.
It’s how it was with Rain, and now it’s happening with Emma, too.
“Come,” John’s gravelly voice calls, slightly muffled by the closed door.
He’s sitting behind his desk, an ancient computer monitor illuminating his face while the winter sun, rapidly lowering in the sky outside, sends rays through the slightly grubby glass of the arched, lead-paned windows.
This space may be a repurposed mill, but the character of the building has been sympathetically protected during its renovation.
I can’t help but think that fact alone tells me a lot about the man in front of me.
He could easily have covered every original feature of this building with plasterboard and turned it into a boring white box with God-awful strip lighting and rubber mats on the floor.
Don’t get me wrong, there are rubber mats on the floors, but only where there’s gym equipment in place.
The rest of the floors are restored wooden floorboards.
The stone walls are exposed, and the lighting is industrial in style and creates a warm, cosy environment that respects the soul of this building and its previous life.
John’s shrewd gaze follows me as I make my way to the empty chair in front of his desk, his appraisal continuing as I sit.
“Emma got you squared away?”
“Yes, she’s been great. Thanks.” I don’t really know what to say, since I don’t actually know what my job is, even though I’ve been here for three hours.
“Good. OK, so, the job.”
I sit up straight, ready to hear all about the job I got today without an application, interview, or even spending more than two minutes with my new boss.
“I need someone to help out. That’s it, basically.” Oh. So, maybe not all about it. John took the phrase ‘man of few words’ and made it his personality.
“Help out with what, exactly?” I ask timidly, not wanting to annoy him enough that he changes his mind.
“Anything. Everything.” Clear as mud. Good.
Great, in fact. Shit, I hope Emma has a bit of a clue as to the specifics of what he wants me to do.
John must see my confusion on his face as he suppresses an eye roll, at himself, I think, and continues.
“Sorry, I’m not really a people person. I need someone to keep the place running.
Cleaning the space, the equipment, keeping an eye on clients, and just making sure they have what they need – water, a towel, or whatever – and helping Emma out with reception and paperwork.
As I said, anything and everything. If I had to give you a job title, it would basically be ‘general dogsbody’. ”
“General Dogsbody, reporting for duty, sir.” I give him a mock salute to punctuate my words delivered in a terrible approximation of a posh, wartime accent. I cringe at myself. He must think I’m an absolute moron. “Sorry—” I start to say, but he waves me off.
“You’re fine. I want my staff to be…themselves.” His lips twitch as he suppresses a laugh. I’ll take him laughing at me as long as I still have this job. “I can pay you the living wage, I’m sorry it’s not more—”
“That’s fine!” I interrupt. I will take a living wage and be grateful for it.
“How many hours a week can you do?”
“As many as you need. I have literally nothing else going on.” I want to take the words back as soon as they spill out of my mouth, but at this point, I’m pretty sure John knows what my situation is, but he has no intention of talking about it, and neither do I.
“OK. Well, seven hours a day should cover the work I need doing, but feel free to work those hours whenever you like across the opening hours.” Now I know he has guessed my situation and is giving me an excuse to be here outside of the hours he can afford to pay me for.
My pride wants to rebel at the idea that I’m being treated differently than any other Tom, Dick, or Harry that might have turned up for this job.
But, in reality, I know I can’t afford pride at this point in my life.
And a positive thing about being in complete control of my working hours is I can make sure to be here all day and use the showers every day as well.
I’m under no illusions that working in a gym is going to suddenly ignite some deep-seated desire in me to work out, but at least I’ll be in a warm, dry environment with kind people.
“That’s great. I-I can do that. Definitely. I’ll do anything, so…yeah. Thanks. I really appreciate you giving me a chance.”
John nods with a huff. “Good. Can you start tomorrow?”
“Yes. Definitely.”
Later that night, as I’m settling down to try and sleep in my tent, wrapping all the layers around me I can in an effort to stay warm in the cold winter weather, I can’t help but smile at my good fortune today.
“See, poppet, every day is a new day. You’re going to be just fine.”
Gran’s voice in my head feels like a warm hug, comforting me as I lie down and close my eyes.
She was the person who taught me how to see the world in a positive light, and losing her the way I did hurt like hell.
But she’s still with me, in my heart. All her pearls of wisdom, and my memories of our time together, keep her alive. Keep her with me.
She had this incredible ability to spot exactly when my thoughts were beginning to spiral, when I felt out of control of a situation, and anxiety started to flare. Her calm voice was always there to ground me and help me gather myself.
As sleep takes me, I dream of her, and of the life I want that she never got to see me have.
One where I followed in her footsteps and became a teacher, inspiring kids to learn with curiosity and creativity.
One with a family of my own, a husband by my side who loves me for all that I am, who takes care of me and protects me, and who pushes me to be better.
One where I achieve all the dreams I had for myself before Dominic happened.
At least, in my dreams, I can be happy.