‘Er, no.’
‘I’ll pass, then.’ He nodded at my mug. ‘That stuff is poison. Look, have you ever tried a trainer before? Why not give it a go? Most people can benefit from a decent workout. Releases stress, lowers blood pressure. Lotta tension involved in organising a wedding.’
‘Thanks, but my choir sorts that. It does give me an idea, though.’
A quick phone call settled it. Marilyn greeted us at her front door wearing pink running gear and a matching bandana.
‘They’re in the highchairs, ready for breakfast. The porridge is on the hob; it’ll need another minute or so. Make sure you blow on it. And don’t turn your back for a second! Oh, and if they make a mess, don’t worry about clearing it up. Changing bag, spare clothes, beakers, Pete’s dummy, Nancy’s dog, remote control are all in the living room. Anything else?’
‘Um, nope. Don’t think so.’
‘Cool. I feel sexier already. Speaking of which! Hell-o!’ I followed her gaze to see Anton, now out of the car, doing more stretches. He’d taken his jacket off, the skin-tight top underneath leaving nothing to the imagination. Flicking back his blond hair, he clapped his hands together.
‘That’s what I like to see! Something to get my teeth into,’ he called out.
‘I was just thinking the same thing,’ Marilyn muttered.
A squealing sound came from the direction of the house.
I braced myself. ‘Right. I’d better go. Anton, Marilyn, Marilyn, Anton. Please don’t work her too hard. She needsenough energy to look after two babies for the rest of the day.’ I dashed inside, took one look at the bomb site of Marilyn’s kitchen, Pete smearing mess across his highchair tray with a plastic spoon, Nancy screaming next to him, sniffed the burnt porridge on the splattered hob, and wondered which of us was going to have the less strenuous morning.
An hour and a half later, I declared it a draw.
In my baby-free, magazine-article, rose-tinted spectacles, I had planned to do some tidying up for Marilyn, maybe put on a load of washing or get the iron out while the twins gurgled in their playpen.
My plan hadn’t factored in that 99 per cent of the time, one or both of them were crying, pooping, smearing, spilling, snatching, poking, or getting their head stuck in the cat flap (a frankly terrifying moment only solved by a lightning-fast internet search and a packet of butter).
Wowzers. Babies were hard work. I now understood Marilyn’s eagerness to join the choir, and to spend an hour and a half slogging round the park in freezing cold rain being shouted at. She returned red-faced, sweat-soaked and dishevelled, barely able to stretch her arm up to meet Anton’s high five.
‘Tea. Cake. Help.’
‘Green tea, a granola bar and I’ll see ya Thursday. Great job!’ Anton jogged back to the car as fresh-faced as when he’d arrived.
‘I can’t believe it’s only nine in the morning.’ Marilyn limped inside, pausing to kiss her children on the head before falling face-first onto the sofa.
I made us some tea and toast.
‘How was it, then?’
‘He’s a maniac. As soon as the session started, he flipped into this beast-man. Like an SAS commander or something. Only I’m not a soldier. I’m an obese woman in her thirties who drives to the corner shop on the corner of her own street. He had medoing squats. Squats! And pulling a tyre on the end of a rope. Every single inch of me hurts. I threw up twice and at one point went blind in my left eye.’
‘Eek. Sorry.’
‘Don’t be sorry. It was flippin’ awesome. This is the start of the new, improved Marilyn. Marilyn mark two. James won’t know what’s hit him.’
So now, along with work, checking in on Sam, seeing Perry, choir rehearsals and worrying about being hunted by a murderer, I got up at six twice a week and spent two hours trying to apply damage limitation with Nancy and Pete. And in between all that, I walked, pounding through the fields as if eventually I could outpace my problems.
No chance.
Halfway through the month, Gwynne phoned to let me know Kane had been attending all his probation meetings, including one only a couple of days earlier. If he had been in Nottinghamshire, and hanging around in HCC, it had been for a few days at most, and he wasn’t there any more. His probation officer would be keeping a close eye on things. I thanked her and let out a long sigh of relief.
I tried to picture the blurred face on Mike’s phone. Maybe the man wasn’t Kane. Maybe I wouldn’t have to tell Sam, after all.
Maybe.
13
Choir rehearsals were buzzing. Not only were we learning two new songs, but following the success of the carol service, Hester announced she had entered Grace Choir into a competition.
