Out of Practice

by Penny Parkes

  Even as she tucked the twins into bed, little trousers and t-shirts all laid out for an early start, her mind was running on, searching for a handle on the situation.

  ‘One more day and then it’s the weekend,’ Holly murmured, looking down at their little sleeping bodies. Ben lay still, perfectly neat, his covers perfectly smooth.

  Tom, on the other hand, was immediately spread out like a starfish – thumb in his mouth, the other hand down his pants. In his mid-blue pyjamas, and with that blissed out expression on his face, Holly knew that Lizzie would be making her habitual masturbating-smurf-joke about now. She sighed, wondering how to explain to the boys that ‘Auntie’ Lizzie might not be around to play for a bit.

  Holly suddenly realised what that meant. In cases like this – who got custody of the dog?

  She felt her eyes well up yet again and cursed herself for minding so much.

  She really had done a number on herself – handing out the responsibility for her own happiness left, right and centre. Between Milo and Lizzie, Holly felt as though she’d surrendered her own vote.

  She slid down against the wall and watched her boys sleep.

  Tomorrow was another day, she decided.

  To borrow the cliché for a moment – tomorrow was the first day of the rest of her life. It was time that she rediscovered what it felt like to take control, to live honestly and be true to herself. She was a doctor and a mother and a person in her own right.

  If only she knew where to start.

  Chapter 19

  Dan limped to the end of his highly unsatisfactory run. It didn’t seem to matter how hard he pushed himself that evening, running hadn’t helped and he headed to the benches in the park to stretch out his legs as he always did. He was vaguely distracted for a moment by the sight of someone else looping through the parkland, skin-tight Lycra running gear highlighting every curve of her perfectly toned physique. He squinted into the distance as she powered effortlessly up the slopes to the running trail and gave him a flawless view of her pert derrière.

  It certainly didn’t help him calm his heart rate back down to normal levels.

  Now, if he’d been Taffy Jones he realised, he’d have run a second lap of the trail, just to get her phone number. He even contemplated it for a moment, before giving in to the fact that he was exhausted, grumpy and frankly longing for this day to end. Maybe if he had a lovely girlfriend waiting for him at home, it might help him cope with everything, but he doubted it. The flashbacks were haunting him almost every night now, the possible consequences of George’s announcement were weighing on his mind and now, to top it all off, he had the image of Holly’s stricken face seared into his mind’s eye.

  Guilt was a vile emotion, he decided. He’d known Lizzie for a very long time, known how she operated. Lizzie’s promises were solid and reliable, unless they happened to clash with her personal view of the situation. Then she could be surprisingly ruthless. Dan was busy kicking himself for not breaking the rules and telling Holly himself, but he also knew it had suited him to delegate. After all, what could he possibly have said? Holly, do please come and relocate your whole family to Larkford, but The Practice is set for a big upheaval and I can’t promise how long you’ll have a job for? If I get promoted, you’ll be fine, but then I’ve got mental health issues and might not be up to the job. What do you think – start Monday?

  Dan sighed heavily, the weight of responsibility tightening the muscles in his shoulders. Had he known, on some level, that Lizzie had her own agenda, he wondered. There were times when he’d certainly suspected she wasn’t finding the whole motherhood thing as rewarding as she’d hoped, seemingly stunned on occasion by the mundanity of life with the under-5’s. And Lizzie never had been one to do things by halves. Just because she was a mother now, it didn’t make her less ambitious on the career front.

  It was subtle, yet obvious once he started looking. Without any willingness to compromise, Lizzie’s load was simply too great for one person to bear. Too proud to openly ask for help, Lizzie appeared to have chosen gin over counselling and her only agenda had been to get Holly on her doorstep. Holly, it seemed was to be the panacea for all Lizzie’s issues.

  If he was honest, Dan didn’t quite get the dynamic of their friendship, but then what did he know? Perhaps it was hugely satisfying for Holly to have someone pointing out all her sartorial faults and taking the piss out of her husband, whilst simultaneously holding her hand and being sympathetic?

  Maybe Lizzie derived enormous pleasure from seeing her competent friend struggle with the self-same parenting dilemmas, only with less style? Dan shook his head, he’d never understand women, he decided.

  But he did know this. The Holly he’d met back in the day had been feisty and opinionated, dancing on tables and debating the issues ’til the wee small hours. It had been somewhat of a shock to meet her at the interview. Post-Milo-Holly was exactly as Lizzie had described – filtered – Holly Lite. As a doctor she was wonderful, as an ally she was perfect, but she would be no match for Classic Holly – almost as though she’d become a mere imitation, an edited version, of her former self.

  Dan yanked roughly on his ankle, stretching his quads to screaming point, as the image of Holly’s face flashed into his mind, shock and pain twisting her features. She’d trusted him. She’d trusted Lizzie. And now who would she turn to?

  ‘Dr Carter? Dan?’ Gentle pressure on his arm startled Dan from his reverie and he found himself looking down into intense green eyes that seemed somehow familiar. ‘Are you okay?’

  Even bouncing lightly in her runners, the girl only came up to his chest. She was like a china doll – her sleek black bob skimming her jawline and her luminous eyes huge in her pale face. It was a face worthy of Walt Disney.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Dan replied automatically, running through his mental Rolodex to try and place her. He felt pretty confident it was her backside he’d seen powering up the hillside earlier and that thought alone was enough to fluster him.

  The girl smiled. ‘Hang on, you might recognise me more like this . . .’ She blew out her cheeks, puffed up her lips and rolled her eyes.

  Dan couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Kingsley Arms. Peanuts one: Belinda Grey nil. Am I right?’

  She seemed delighted that he remembered, colour highlighting those perfect cheekbones. ‘How was your run?’

  ‘Not the best,’ Dan admitted ruefully. ‘Rather unsatisfying really. How are you feeling though, after your run-in with the dreaded legume?’

  ‘Pretty good actually, all things considered. Thank God you and Dr Jones were there. I gather my friends all went to pieces and were spectacularly useless. Which is reassuring, obviously.’

  Dan didn’t like to burst her bubble that he’d rather gone to pieces too, but she seemed to be taking the whole thing in good humour so he let the moment pass. Doing his best to ignore the gentle hand on his arm that had yet to go away, Dan tried to keep things professional. ‘There’s a DVD at The Practice, I think. How to use an EpiPen. Why don’t you borrow it and make your friends watch it. Just in case.’

  ‘Good idea. And why don’t you let me buy you a drink to say thank you for saving my life. It looks like your run’s going nowhere tonight.’

  Dan took in her open expression, the taut little body and the insistent pressure of her touch on his burning skin. He wished for a second that he was more like Taffy. Taffy wouldn’t start having ethical debates with himself, he would simply say yes.

  Belinda didn’t miss a trick. ‘If I promise not to put you in a compromising doctor/patient situation, can I buy you a drink?’ Her eyes sparkled and danced and she was clearly teasing him.

  They fell into step as they walked through the park, heading for the lights of The Kingsley Arms.

  ‘Are you training for something or just keeping fit?’ Belinda asked.

  ‘I was wondering about doing the Bath Half Marathon, if we can manage the hills. I normally train with Taffy,’ he explained. ‘It’s our sanity
saver, actually.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ she empathised. ‘I guess your job is pretty stressful sometimes.’

  ‘Yup,’ said Dan with feeling, wanting to change the subject instantly and wondering why he’d brought it up. ‘Maybe you could give us some tips about training routes round here. We keep ending up at The Kingsley Arms.’

  She grinned. ‘Well it is very important to keep hydrated! But, joking aside, there’s actually a Larkford Harriers meeting every Thursday if you guys want to come along. The more the merrier, but I will warn you that some of the team take it all quite seriously.’

  ‘How seriously? Are we talking lycra onesies and Vaseline on the nipples?’ he grinned.

  ‘Worse,’ she whispered, looking from side to side conspiratorially. ‘Some of them are . . . tri-athletes.’

  Dan snorted with laughter. The fad for triathlons had swept through the county over the last few years, as the latest marker for a blooming mid-life crisis. All the podgy dads in the town had become quite competitive about getting into shape, obsessively measuring start times, heart rates and protein intake, only to end up at The Practice, with shin splints, sprains and slipped discs. It hadn’t stopped them training and trying to recapture their lost youth, but they were certainly more regular visitors at The Practice than they always used to be.

  ‘Not sure Taffy and I are quite committed enough to the cause, Belinda.’

  ‘Lindy, please.’

  ‘And what do you do, Lindy, when you’re not running or tackling illicit peanuts, if that’s not too much of a clichéd question?’

  ‘I’m a teacher.’

  Dan gave her a quizzical look. ‘You’re a teacher? You don’t look old enough to be a teacher.’

  Lindy laughed. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment. I think. But yes, I am a teacher. I’m actually Deputy Head of the Sixth Form unit in town. So, not just fluffy bunny songs either.’ She said this with the slightly tired inflection of someone who had gone through this subject a million times before. Just because she looked petite, young and approachable didn’t automatically make her a Kindergarten teacher.

  ‘What do you teach, then? Geography? History? English?’

  ‘Biology and Chemistry actually. Well, and Biochemistry too.’

  Dan looked impressed despite himself. And then a little embarrassed as he realised what a Neanderthal that probably made him look in Lindy’s eyes. You girl teach science? Og . . .

  Lindy just raised one of those perfectly shaped eyebrows again and didn’t say a word.

  By the time they reached the pub, they were chatting easily and Dan was trying to remember why he’d thought this was a bad idea. Maybe it was time he stopped smarting over the whole Julia Channing fiasco and got himself back in the game. They went straight for the bar to find Taffy in deep conversation with the Major about his bunions. ‘Save me . . .’ mouthed Taffy whilst the Major attempted to do up his shoelaces again.

  As they tactfully rescued Taffy, Dan watched Lindy with a smile. Pretty, confident, clever – certainly more socially adept than himself. Dan could feel Lindy’s charms working their magic on his fragile mood.

  They ordered some drinks and propped up the bar. ‘Taffs, Lindy has very kindly invited us to join the Larkford Harriers for our training.’

  ‘The Harriers?’ Taffy queried, pulling a face. ‘I thought they were all a bunch of . . . well, I believe tri-athletes is the socially acceptable term?’

  Lindy’s throaty laugh had both men’s attention. ‘Not all of us. There’s a few marathon runners and time-wasters for good measure.’

  ‘And which are you?’ Dan asked with interest.

  ‘Well, I like to think of myself as a time-waster, but I just can’t deny it. I love to run. Marathons preferably, but I’m just as happy on Claverton Down with a good soundtrack.’ She took a delicate sip of her drink and tried to conceal a smile. ‘So tell me then, Half Marathon Boys. How’s the training really going?’

  Taffy just laughed and ordered another pint leaving Dan to formulate a sensible reply. ‘Well, to be honest, it’s not really. Bit hit and miss, you know? But we’re both pretty fit, so I don’t suppose it’ll take too long to get in shape. We’ve got months.’

  Lindy shook her head. ‘Typical bloke. Have you been to Bath lately? All the hills? You’ll be lucky to even finish without a decent training programme.’ They appeared to have hit upon Lindy’s pet topic of conversation. She listed out the most common injuries caused by lack of preparation and was about to start demonstrating a few stretches when Dan stopped her.

  ‘We’ll be fine and even if we do injure ourselves, at least we know the right people,’ he said, aiming for gentle humour and falling wide of the mark.

  She flushed, embarrassed by what she clearly took to be a snub. ‘I was only offering to help.’

  Dan watched a whisper of colour warm her cheeks and he had to resist the urge to pull her towards him. He was suddenly desperate to know whether the wafts of orange and jasmine that were tormenting him came from the nape of her neck, where her neat little bob signposted the pale, delicate skin he was longing to kiss.

  ‘I’d actually like that very much,’ he said huskily, stopping to clear his throat and cursing himself for sounding like one of the adolescents in her school.

  Lindy bounced back with such speed that Dan was in danger of losing track of the conversation altogether. Before he knew it, Taffy had melted into the crowd and Lindy was draining her glass. ‘Shall we go somewhere quieter?’

  ‘Erm . . . Great,’ he managed, feeling as if he’d just finished a loop on a rollercoaster and wondering if his day could get any more confusing. This wasn’t his usual territory. When it came to meeting girls, Dan was a slow burner. This was all feeling very fast, very Taffy and very much as though Lindy was the one in the driving seat.

  The silence was loaded and Dan rose to his feet, enjoying the fact that he towered over Lindy and could scoop her to him in one arm if he chose. She’d angled her head to look up at him and her hair fell back, releasing another waft of summery perfume. Her eyes were wide and her lips had a slight sheen that beckoned him down.

  They barely made it to Dan’s Land Rover in The Practice car park, before Lindy’s fingers were entwined with his, petite and pale against the broadness of his own. It was a wonder they even got inside. Dan didn’t even have chance to ask the age-old ‘your place or mine,’ before her hands were in his hair and her lips were on his, urgently seeking a response. She shifted in her seat and let the seatbelt pull back as she slid along the bench, one leg hooking easily over his thigh.

  Dan pulled her to him and groaned as she kissed the side of his neck and the silky curtain of her hair brushed against his face, with its erotic jasmine scent, and one of her hands ran over his chest. ‘Jesus,’ he managed, thanking God that the car park was in pitch blackness.

  She slid her thigh against his, rising slightly against the seat until they were locked together. He fumbled with his seatbelt, desperate to turn towards her and lifted her easily, with his big hands around her tiny waist. All thoughts were driven from his mind as she settled down against him with a sigh, as if the feeling of his desire against her was what she’d been searching for. Her hips moved gently, driving Dan past any thoughts of modesty and he found a way under the layers of Lycra until his hand brushed against the taut lace of her bra and the hard pressure of her nipples. She broke away from the kiss then and whimpered slightly in her throat as he dropped his head and pulled her breast into his mouth, fabric and all. His hot breath made her cry out, the attentions of his tongue through the layers of lace and fabric giving an extra frisson of desire.

  ‘Take me home,’ she breathed.

  Dan stopped abruptly. ‘Okay. Sure. I mean if that’s what you want. I was thinking maybe dinner, but . . .’

  Lindy nibbled very gently at his bottom lip and pressed her hips against him insistently. ‘Your home,’ she whispered. ‘Your bed. Let’s start with dessert.’

  Dan to
ok her face in his hands and his smile spoke volumes, as did the sudden leap of his erection against her. ‘Are you sure?’ he asked, hoping for a yes, but wanting to be sure. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisaged his first date in months, but it sure beat anything his own imagination had come up with.

  She slithered around until she was sitting next to him, her wanton expression filling her eyes with light and her lips wide and full. She slid one hand up under his shorts. ‘Just drive.’

  It was a wonder that they reached Dan’s cottage in one piece and they certainly didn’t waste any time on drinks or conversation when they got there. Dan kicked the front door closed and followed Lindy through to the kitchen. She kicked off her trainers and with both hands on the edge of the kitchen table, she lifted herself onto the surface. She slipped out of her shorts in one swift movement and Dan thought he may actually have a heart attack. A glimpse of her soft creamy skin had him stripping off his shirt without a second thought. Lindy ran her hand over the firm outline of his stomach, tracing the smattering of hairs heading under his waistband. ‘I thought you said you hadn’t been training?’ she murmured. Dan pulled her top over her head in one, her hair falling neatly back into its bob and revealing a tiny lace bra, cupping her delicate breasts. He sucked on her again, pushing the lace aside with his tongue and pulling her body against him.

  ‘My God, I want you,’ he groaned, hooking his fingers through the wisp of lace that stood between him and being inside her. Her hands now cradled him and his clothes were thrown aside. She deliberately, slowly, sucked on her thumb and made small circles around the tip of him, spreading his desire with her gentle persistence. He pulled away suddenly, unable to keep himself under control if she carried on this sublime teasing.

  He dropped to his knees and pulled her to him, his hands grasping her hips until she was writhing in helpless anticipation. Her voice became breathless and she begged him to take her. Barely taking a moment to remember a condom, her hands guided him into her and they toppled back against the kitchen table. Her legs wrapped around him and pressed him in deeper until Dan could barely restrain himself. Only as she began to cry out did he let himself go and their two bodies worked together until they were blinded by lust and the waves of satisfaction that broke over them.