by Rosa Temple
My shoulders sagged as I dragged my soon to become blistered feet to the bedroom, mouthing the words ‘recapture the joy of sweat,’ to myself. Where was the joy in sweat? I never did sweat unless I was in a sauna and even then I rarely had a sauna because of how crazy my hair would become.
After ten or so minutes of pulling on various Lycra running bottoms, looking at my thighs in the mirror and deciding on a pair of baggy sweat pants, I emerged from the bedroom zipping up a thick hoody. I found Lena doing the splits on my floor while flicking through my Vogue magazine.
‘By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll look like one of these models,’ she said.
‘Oh please, Lena. I don’t want to be rake-thin. I just want to be a real woman. Curves in all the right places.’
Lena pulled her thighs together and sprung up off the floor.
‘Magenta, you once had curves in all the right places. You still have them … somewhere.’ She tipped her head to the side and looked at me. ‘But along with curves there should be a waistline and yours is disappearing. I tell you this because I love you.’
My jaw dropped. I tried to look at my figure in the large mirror and as I kept staring, turning left to right, checking out my tummy in profile, I began to see what Lena meant. I’d spent the winter in layers of sweaters and loose-fitting dresses. I wanted to be comfortable for work where I’d spent a lot of time, sometimes working until late and ordering takeaway or collecting a takeaway on the way home. I’d never worked as hard as I had been and never felt as hungry.
I knew full well I’d rewarded myself with desserts I would normally never touch. And then there was the wine. My intake had shot up in my nights of dreaming of happy ever afters with a man who was neither Anthony nor Hugo but one I hoped to meet but never did. I had noticed Anthony staring at me an awful lot at work. Had that been lust or just wondering if I’d been living on pies for the last few weeks? Because that’s what I looked like. I shouldn’t have let my bingeing go so far. I decided then and there that by the time our spring collection fashion show took place I wanted to be back in my clingy dresses and fabulous heels. No more loose-fitting tops for me.
‘Okay, let’s do this,’ I said to Lena, this time pointing my own strict finger at the front door and power-walking all the way downstairs to the street.
‘We’ll start off slow and light,’ Lena said.
‘I can handle it,’ I said and shot off in the direction of the park. Lena trotted up to me and ran alongside me. I pumped my arms and sped up. Lena did the same. I lifted my knees and accelerated further. Lena matched my speed. I began puffing big and hard like I’d seen athletes do on television. Lena made fast panting noises and raced off miles ahead of me. I tried to catch her but her pink shorts were getting further and further away and with every breath I took my chest felt more and more constricted and a sharp pain pierced my side.
I started trotting, leaning over sideways and clutching my right side, letting my left arm swing loosely by my thigh. A couple of joggers ran past me and looked at me as if I’d let the team down. I stumbled on, head flopping forward until I saw the welcoming bark of a great big oak tree and fell against it.
Leaning one hand on the oak I puffed and panted and began to cough. With each cough the stitch in my side attacked me further. I felt like crying. A man walking his dog hesitated at my tree.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
I couldn’t speak. I just lifted a limp hand and waved him on, trying to say thank you but the words wouldn’t come out.
I put my head down and stared at the empty chip wrapper at the foot of the tree. I heard a pounding sound and thought, this is it; I’m having a stroke. I’m having a stroke and no one cares. But the pounding was Lena running back to my aid.
‘Now do you get why I said start off slow and light?’ she said, breathing quite normally.
I still couldn’t speak. I opened and closed my mouth, trying desperately to say, ‘I’m sorry.’ Lena shook her head and unscrewed the top of her water bottle. I waved her away as if to tell her I couldn’t drink a thing but she simply splashed a tidal wave of Evian in my face.
‘Bloody hell!’ I spluttered, finally finding my voice. ‘What was that for?’
‘Short, sharp shock. You can’t stay here like this; you’ll get a stitch.’
‘I’ve already got one.’
‘Okay so stand straight,’ she barked.
I did.
‘Lift your arms.’
I did that too.
‘Now stretch in the opposite direction to the stitch. I said stretch!’
‘Jesus, Lena. I am stretching. What does it look like?’
‘It looks like you’re auditioning for Ballet Rambert. Now move!’
I was sure Lena’s method to get my waistline back was a bit extreme. Surely all that physicality was intended for the contestants on The Biggest Loser. And while I allowed Lena to drill me through some back bends, side bends, lunges and stretches, I couldn’t help but notice an odd look in her eye.
While lying flat on my back and about to attempt bridge pose, I looked up at Lena.
‘What’s wrong, Lena? Something’s not right. Do you want to talk about it?’
I sat up and crossed my legs, patting the grass next to me so that my drill sergeant could sit down and let me breathe for five minutes. Luckily, she did.
‘There is something isn’t there?’ I said.
Lena nodded. ‘He’s gone. He finally moved out.’
‘Your ex?’
‘Yes. I finally saw the back of him on Wednesday. The only problem is I can’t live without that ugly, lazy bastard. Am I mad to want him back?’
I wanted to say an emphatic ‘yes’ but then thought about my call to Hugo. Was I mad to want Hugo back in my life?
‘We can’t help who we love, Lena,’ I said, resting a hand on her thigh. The muscle was so firm I moved my hand and sucked in my belly. ‘Maybe you guys could get counselling,’ I suggested. ‘Maybe if you both sat down with a professional and got him to listen to the things that made you want him to leave in the first place, he might see it and change his ways. I mean, it is only the laziness that bugs you.’
‘Yes, but it’s laziness on another level. It’s like he thinks I was put on this earth solely to do his bidding. I’ve been living in a pigsty for months on end because I refused to clean up after him.’
‘Yes, I know.’
‘And his answer was to employ a cleaner. I mean, is it so hard to take a dirty plate out to the kitchen and wash it? Is it so hard to wash the bath after you get out? Is it so hard to remember your girlfriend’s birthday and buy her card? Was I asking too much?’
‘No, Lena. You weren’t.’
‘Well, so I should be better off without him, right?’
‘Maybe given time,’ I said softly. ‘Or maybe you could try the counsellor idea.’
‘He’ll never change. Once an arsehole, always an arsehole. I wouldn’t mind but we didn’t have anything special going. Nothing great to aim for. I knew him inside out and he was a shallow, dirty, unambitious sod.’ She pulled her fist into the sleeve of her hoody and dried her tears. ‘He had nothing going for him, Magenta. Nothing. I will get over him, won’t I?’
‘Don’t worry, Lena, yes, of course you will.’
We sat quietly for a while.
‘Lena?’
‘Yes?’
‘Can I go home now? I’m freezing cold and I’m worried I’ve pulled all the muscles I have.’
Lena smiled, jumped up and held out her hand for me to take. I got to my feet.
‘You’re lucky,’ she said. ‘You don’t have anyone in your life to complicate things.’
I nodded and we walked in the direction of my flat. Lena’s words stayed with me. I didn’t have anyone in my life to complicate things, but it was the not having anyone that got to me. I wanted someone and I knew of a someone who was available, good-looking, kind, ambit
ious, great in bed, and who wanted me.
Unlike Lena’s ex, Hugo had a lot going for him and I was constantly intrigued to find out what he looked like ten years after our passionate affair. The suspense was too much for me. I was crazy to have waited so long to find out.
By the time I lifted a weary arm to turn the key in the lock, I’d made up my mind. I was going to call Hugo. But first I had to get rid of my gut; I needed my trim little waist back. Not only did I want to see him really badly, I wanted him to see what he’d missed.
Chapter 28
I started to see Lena on a weekly basis instead of fortnightly and took all the advice she had to throw at me to get my hourglass figure back. Now that I was earning I had started to pay Lena, rather than Mother having to do it. In fact, the new Magenta hadn’t asked her parents for money in a long time and she hadn’t had to drop in on little sister Ebony because she was broke and needed a meal.
I cut down on my alcohol consumption and I got an extra surge of energy. Anthony and I were breezing through the preparations of our spring fashion show and I’d chosen a new charity to support this time round. The fact that we were helping a charity attracted media attention and opened up a chance for Anthony to appear on breakfast television.
‘I think you should do it, Magenta,’ he said when he came off the phone to the producer from the BBC. ‘You’ve got more of a face for television than I have.’
‘Rubbish, Anthony. You’re drop-dead gorgeous and I look like a bag lady at that time of the morning.’ I looked at Anthony who had been about to take a sip of the latte I’d brought in but seemed to have frozen in time.
‘What? What is it?’ I said, touching my hair and face as if something was stuck to me.
‘You think I’m drop-dead gorgeous?’ he asked.
‘Oh behave, Anthony, you know you’re handsome. You don’t need me to tell you that.’ I tried to make light of it and started gathering up my notebook and coffee cup when he and I hadn’t even finished our meeting.
‘No, it’s nice to be complimented now and again by someone you’re not engaged to.’ He laughed but my cheeks were red hot.
‘Well, compliments are nice,’ I said, sitting back down and trying to act normal. ‘But anyway, we’ve got lots to do.’
‘I’ve complimented you haven’t I, Magenta?’
I looked at him.
‘I don’t mean on your looks, although I’ve always thought you stunningly attractive,’ he said. ‘But I mean on the job you do here. You know you’re amazing, right?’
‘Anthony I don’t know how many times you’ve said it. Any more and I’ll allow myself to be headhunted the hell out of here.’
‘Have you been approached by someone else?’ He looked worried. ‘I mean, not that I’m at all surprised. Anyone would be lucky to have you.’
‘Well, you’ve got me now,’ I said in a light-hearted tone.
‘I’ve got you have I?’ he said. ‘I don’t think so. I might be your boss but you’ve always been your own person.’
‘What do you mean by that?’ I was genuinely puzzled.
‘I don’t know. I suppose I mean you do what you have to do to get what you want. For example, the inheritance?’
‘You can’t keep throwing that in my face, Anthony. Remember you’re the one who’s contemplating selling the company.’
He pushed his glasses up his nose and blushed. Anthony had still not cut his wavy hair. With the new, trendy company image, he’d slacked off on the business suits altogether. I assumed he was looking more and more like the artist he used to be when he was living in Italy. I liked the look but I never let on.
‘I know what you’re saying, Magenta.’ He paused and his eyes penetrated mine. ‘But if I decided to stay, if I didn’t pack it all in and go back to my old life, would you consider staying on with me?’
I couldn’t believe he was asking me that. Under different circumstances I would have done anything this man suggested I do. Clearly I hadn’t managed to get Anthony Shearman out of my system. He was on my mind most of the time, in my waking hours, as I jumped into the shower in the morning and even when I flicked through mindless television in the evening.
Without my realising it, Anthony had become the measure against which I judged every man who’d shown an interest in me since the day I met him. Without my realising it, up until that very point, he was probably the reason why I hadn’t had a date in months – no one was good enough. No one except, perhaps, Hugo. Hugo. Anthony. The pull at my heartstrings continued.
Would I drop all notions of wanting to restart a relationship with Hugo if Anthony turned around and told me exactly what I’d been longing to hear from him since the day I first set eyes on him? Okay, so the first thing I ever saw of Anthony was his bum, but that was a good enough place to start.
My head began to whir – again.
‘Anthony, it really isn’t fair of you to ask me that, you know? Only ask me a question that’s based on reality,’ I said. ‘That’s all I’m prepared to answer. But I want you to know that these six months have been the best and most fulfilling months I’ve ever had working for anyone. I’ve absolutely loved being here and I could see myself doing this job for a very long time. But life for me, and you, is more complicated than that. We should just take each day as it comes.’
‘Very diplomatically put,’ Anthony said. I changed subject but I couldn’t help feeling that he wanted to delve more deeply.
The next day was Valentine’s Day. Cassandra received a mysterious and huge bouquet of spring blooms.
‘So, who are they from?’ I asked her but not really caring that much.
She tapped the side of her nose and said nothing, which kind of convinced me that she probably sent them to herself to make me jealous. It was working. Out of all the people in our office, she and I had been the only singletons but now it looked as if even she was having a passionate romance with some guy, leaving me looking like an absolute wallflower. I mean everyone was talking about where they were going for their Valentine’s meal and what lovely surprises and gifts they got. Everyone except me.
I called Anya. Between her work, my work and her new relationship, I hadn’t seen her in ages. It was too much to expect that she’d be free for a drink that evening.
‘I vould, darling, you know that,’ she said when she returned my desperate plea for companionship. ‘But Henry has something special arranged and I’ve already accepted.’
‘Of course. I just thought, you know? On the off chance you had no plans that you and I could … Well, anyway, it’s been a while since we met up – let’s do it soon, okay?’
‘Of course, darling. I’ll see you soon.’
She meant well but I doubted I would see her soon. That’s when I did something ridiculous. Straight after going to the bathroom to see if my new-look waistline was still there since I last looked, I called Hugo.
‘Happy Valentine’s Day,’ he said.
‘Gosh, is that what day it is?’ I asked.
‘So they tell me.’ He sounded cheery.
‘Oh, it’s just another day to me,’ I lied. ‘Anyway, I … I just remembered, you know, just out of the blue, that you once said that all I had to do was say the word and you’d be on a train to London.’
‘Is this the word?’
‘This is the word.’
‘Where shall I meet you and what time?’
‘I finish work at five-thirty. I could meet you at seven-thirty somewhere for a meal or something. Where would your train arrive?’
‘I think I could get to Paddington from here; in fact I know I can and that’s not too far from the pub where we first met,’ said Hugo.
The sentence hung in the air, a montage of flashbacks of all the good things about our first meet-up going through my mind and making me smile.
‘You’d go there even though it’s a completely different kind of bar to what it was ten years ago?’ I said.
; ‘Especially because it is. New beginnings and all that.’
‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. One meal, okay?’
‘Absolutely. Magenta you’ve made my day. Wait, wait, I don’t want to sound too desperate. Forgive me. I’m cool, really I am.’
I laughed. The thought of the very cool Hugo of ten years ago being as cool at thirty-eight would be quite a thing to see. I couldn’t wait. In fact, when I got off the phone to Hugo I was doing a very uncool dance facing the window and didn’t notice that Anthony had walked in.
He cleared his throat loudly and my rendition of Beyoncé in the ‘Single Ladies’ video came to an abrupt halt.
‘Bloody hell, Anthony. Do you have to sneak up on a girl like that?’
‘I’m sorry, I thought you would have heard my footsteps along the corridor.’
‘No I didn’t.’ Because I had ‘Single Ladies’ playing loud in my head and I wouldn’t have heard anything.
‘I just wanted to remind you that I’m leaving early today. You know Inez has booked a cosy little countryside hotel for Valentine’s, so we’ll be staying overnight. It was a bit last-minute. Hope that’s okay?’
‘Absolutely. You two have a great time.’ See if I care.
‘And what will you be doing tonight?’ he asked.
‘Oh, you know? This and that. I’ve got plans.’
‘Anything you want to share?’
I shook my head innocently and sat down. I clicked the screen on my computer and looked up to see Anthony hovering by the door.
‘Right then,’ he said. ‘I’ll er, see you later then?’
I nodded, smiled and went back to work. Anthony had read Hugo’s email and I wasn’t about to let him, or anyone else for that matter, judge me about the decision I’d made. A decision I was half regretting with every click of my mouse as I pretended to work and one I couldn’t go back on because Hugo might already be on a train.
Chapter 29
Spending a gruelling two hours or so trying to decide what to wear to see the man who had broken your heart was not easy. I didn’t know what look to go for. I couldn’t get too dressed up; the bar we’d met at, although no longer a dive, was still only a gastro pub. I stood in my walk-in wardrobe doing a rundown of all the outfits I had that would say gastro pub but as I never ate at any, I wasn’t sure any of my designer outfits fit the bill. It was too late to shop for anything new and I couldn’t ask Anya to rush over and help me out.
