By the time we dragged ourselves back into the car park, I think some of us genuinely couldn’t have taken another step without the promise of a Cup and Saucer breakfast at the end of it. The only reason we didn’t go straight to the café as usual was because we didn’t want Kim to know about it and decide to join us, screeching insults about our nutritional choices.
‘So, where is Nathan?’ Selena asked, once Kim had bullied us through the cool-down.
‘Still whining and pining for Coach Comfy?’ Kim shook her head in disgust. ‘Give me strength.’ And with that, she sprinted off.
‘I think I hate her,’ Mel whimpered as we limped to the square. ‘I mean, I know it’s not Christian and I’ll be sayin’ an extra prayer of forgiveness at church today, but bloomin’ ’eck.’
‘Did Nathan bring her in to get us at maximum fitness for the race?’ Dani asked, ‘because I don’t think that kind of brutal motivational style will work here.’
‘I want Nathan back,’ Bronwyn wailed. ‘The Larks is supposed to be fun, and positive and encouraging. Not make you want to commit Kommandocide. If she’s sticking around until the triathlon, I might have to call my fella and see if he can have a sharp word.’
‘Nathan must be ill or had a last-minute emergency. He wouldn’t just hand us over to an evil tyrant without saying anything,’ Selena said. ‘As soon as we get to the café, I’m messaging him.’
And she wasn’t the only one. For the rest of the day, the Larks WhatsApp group was pinging with complaints and questions, peppered with increasingly lurid descriptions of the run and its after-effects.
I kept quiet, half wondering if this had something to do with my lust-addled moment in the changing room. But Nathan had already met with Kim. And he fended off unwanted attentions from his clients all the time, it was part of the job for him.
With every ping, I snatched up my phone, hoping to read that he’d come down with a bug or had pulled a hamstring.
But Nathan kept quiet.
55
Stop Being a Loser Programme
Day One Hundred and Sixty-Seven
It was an excruciating wait until Wednesday morning.
Snowed under with work and stewing in my own embarrassment, I’d missed Joey’s training, but he’d told me Nathan had been at the evening club training, and had popped into his early morning swims.
I walked to meet the Larks with a stomach full of trepidation, not sure if I was more nervous about Nathan being there or Kommando Kim. But I heard the answer long before I could see it, catching up with Isobel, and Mystery Women One and Two lurking at the entrance to the car park, trying to decide whether they dared face going any further.
I left them to it, the furious rant becoming gradually distinguishable as I approached the others, who, instead of standing around in their usual motley group, were lined up in what I supposed was military formation.
Give me strength…
I was going to need it.
‘…Some of you have been WHINING to Coach Comfy about being pushed to do some actual WORK for once! He’s allworriedabout you! Wah, wah, wah – did you feel a bit TIREDY WIREDY after running THREE WHOLE MILES – HALF the triathlon distance? Did your poor little legs ache for the rest of the day? Did your shoulders feel a little bit sore after doing twenty whole burpees? My heart BLEEDS! Unlike yours, which are too blocked up with post-run PANCAKES to bleed anything! “Oh, Coach Comfy, please tell the mean lady to stop shouting at us and make her be nice instead, she keeps making us run fast, so we can’t gossip or tell each other how fabulous we all are as we cruise in in LAST PLACE!” What is wrong with you women? You have no idea about the true cost of victory!’
‘Ur, Marjory was in the Olympics, and—’
‘I’M NOT FINISHED! If this Marjory was in the Olympics, maybe she can explain that the coach-club relationship is not a democracy. If you get to decide how fast and how far you run, you lose. If I decide, you stand a small chance of not being total failures. And when you cross that line with some even bigger loser behind you, someone who had a nice, friendly coach who thought training should be fun and enjoyable and make you FEEL GOOD, then you’ll be thanking me. Until then, SHUT UP and do what I say. And for every whinge, grumble, complaint or moan you make – to me, to each other or to Coach Comfy – it’s going to get tougher and more ruthless until you learn that there is only one road to victory, and there ain’t a lot of smiles on it. Now. Six K this morning. And I want it done faster than the five you did last time. Weekend’s over, time to put some effort in.’
‘Nothing worse than a woman with a point to prove,’ Selena muttered. So that was ten squats before we’d even left the car park.
* * *
We were a morose bunch at breakfast. No one had heard from Nathan, but my report that he was continuing with his other duties was depressing news.
‘Why has he ditched us?’ Bronwyn asked. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’
‘I’m going to call him,’ Dani said, pulling her phone from her fleece pocket. ‘Use my courtroom interrogation skills to get to the bottom of this.’
But interrogation techniques aren’t quite as effective in a voicemail compared to a courtroom, even Dani’s.
‘Maybe we should go round, demand an answer face to face,’ Mel suggested.
