‘We’ve had another customer ask for spelt flour bread,’ she said. ‘That’s six in the last week. Do you think there might be a market for it?’
‘Probably.’
‘Can’t you give it a go?’
‘I suppose I could, but not today. For one thing, I don’t have any spelt flour, and for another I’m off to the hospital in an hour. Fracture clinic,’ he added. To be honest, he really couldn’t be bothered trialling something new, even if there was a call for it. He preferred to spend his time doing what interested him – running, or thinking about running, or watching videos about running…
‘Ooh, do you think they’ll tell you to leave the boot off?’ Andrea asked.
‘I hope so!’ His reply was heartfelt. ‘I’m already going to miss one marathon; I don’t want to miss any more. And Cameron and I are supposed to be training for the Marathon des Sables.’
‘I thought you said it wasn’t until next year?’
‘It’s not, but it’s a beast. It isn’t called the toughest foot race on earth for nothing!’ he enthused, warming to his theme eventhough he’d told her all this before. ‘Six marathons over six days, in desert temperatures of over 40° Celsius,’ he continued. It gave him goosebumps just thinking about it. It would be the hardest challenge of his life and he’d be running it with his son. He couldn’t wait!
Andrea shook her head. ‘There’s something wrong with you. How anyone can call that fun is beyond me. I hope, for all our sakes, that theydotake your boot off, then perhaps you won’t be so miserable.’
‘I’m not miserable,’ Elijah protested.
She gave him a pointed look. ‘Yes, you are. Do you want me to see if the muffins are done?’ she asked, and he realised the timer had gone off.
‘I’ll do it.’ He’d given his leg a bit of a rest, so it was time he used it again. It wasn’t going to get stronger by molly coddling it. He needed to use it as much as possible.
Gritting his teeth, he got off the stool and hobbled to the oven. The muffins looked absolutely delicious, and in the interests of making sure they tasted as good as they looked, he broke a piece off and popped it in his mouth, offering the other half to Andrea.
‘Not for me, thanks. If I tasted everything you baked, I’d never eat any proper food.’
‘Are you saying my baking isn’t proper food?’ he asked, putting the other half in his mouth and chewing appreciatively.
‘You know what I mean,’ she scolded. ‘It’s alright for you, you’re as skinny as a whippet.’
‘That’s because I exercise a lot.’
‘Yes, well, some of us don’t have time to go running for three or four hours a day, seven days a week.’
‘Four days,’ he corrected. ‘I don’t exercisesevendays a week.’
She put her hands on her hips. ‘You go for a “jog”, but not a normal jog. Peoplejogaround the park.Yourversion of a jog is to go to Thornbury and back. That’s nine miles each way. As I said, you’re not normal.’ She huffed out of the room, and his rueful smile followed her.
Maybe he did take his running a smidge too seriously, but he enjoyed it. It got him out of the house, gave him exercise, and kept him fit. And compared to other hobbies, like golf, for instance, it was relatively cheap. All it cost him was a new pair of trainers every few months, and he usually bought those whenever the sports shop had a sale on.
Elijah put the muffins to cool, then checked the time. He needed to make a move if he didn’t want to be late for his appointment at the clinic.
Elijah sat in the waiting room tapping his feet. Correction: tapping his foot. The onewithoutthe boot. The fractured one was aching like the devil, so he was keen not to move it too much.
When he heard his name called, he levered himself up with the crutches that he’d been given but hated using. For one thing, he didn’t want to get told off for not using them, not with being so close to being able to leave his boot off completely, and two,because he didn’t think he could reach the consulting room without them.
The nurse slowed down to allow him to catch up. ‘It looks a lovely day out there,’ she said conversationally.
‘It is, and I hope it’ll be a lovely day inhere.’ He pointed to his boot. ‘I’m hoping this will come off.’
She opened a door to a small room containing a desk, a computer, and a woman sitting at it studying the screen.
‘Mr Grant?’ the doctor said.
‘Call me Elijah.’
‘Okay, Elijah, I’m just going to run through a couple of checks to make sure we’ve got the right person, then we’ll see what’s what, okay?’
