A Beginner's Guide To Salad

by Jennifer Joyce

  Erin checked her watch and seemed surprised that it was after five and the rest of the office had drifted home. ‘Yep. Just give me a minute.’

  I waited while Erin shut down her computer and gathered her belongings, almost bursting with gossip. Erin bustled me out of the office and grimaced.

  ‘Ugh. He’s been slobbering over me all day.’ She shuddered while I took in her outfit, which may have fuelled Richard’s obsession with her. Her red dress was short, barely covering her crotch, her boobs pushed up to balance above the neckline and the fabric moulded itself to her frame like a second skin. If it hadn’t been Erin in the dress, I would have said it was highly inappropriate for work.

  ‘You can hardly blame him in that get up, can you?’

  Erin slid her hands over her hips. ‘What, this old thing? I thought Stuart might like it.’ From the wicked grin on her face, I assumed Stuart had liked it very much.

  ‘Speaking of clothes, you’ll never guess how I found Kelvin this morning.’

  Erin stopped in the corridor and grasped my arm. ‘He was in a dress?’

  ‘If only.’ I swallowed back a tiny bit of bile before I continued. If it wasn’t such a juicy piece of gossip, I’d have removed the image from my memory. ‘He was almost naked, wearing just his underpants.’

  Erin’s face paled. ‘He wasn’t trying to shag you, was he?’

  ‘No, no, no.’ I covered my ears but it was too late. ‘Susan’s kicked him out so he’s camping out in his office. He didn’t have any spare clothes and he wanted me to take his suit to the dry cleaners.’

  ‘Susan’s kicked him out?’

  I nodded, relishing being the bearer of such news. ‘I thought she was being dramatic with the divorce thing, but it turns out she’s serious.’

  Erin started walking along the corridor again, tugging me with her. ‘Let’s go to the pub. I want all the details.’

  ‘I can’t. I have spinning class.’ I never thought I’d pass up the chance for a gossip in the pub for exercise in a million years. ‘I can meet you later though.’

  Erin shook her head. ‘I can’t. I’m seeing Stuart.’

  ‘Again?’ This was even more shocking than finding Kelvin that morning.

  ‘It turns out he’s quite good company. And surprisingly good in bed.’

  ‘You already knew he was good in the sack.’ That was the only reason she’d gone back for seconds.

  ‘And it was a surprise the first time. Anyway, come on. I’ve had enough of this place.’

  I rushed home, even managing a sort of jog at one point, stopping by the boutique for only a few seconds to ogle The Dress. I ate quickly and changed into my gym gear so that I was ready when Jared arrived to pick me up for our class. I was still feeling optimistic about the class by this point and so I was quite content to follow Jared into the room lined with bikes, arranged in a semi-circle and facing a singular bike in the middle. A few people had arrived before us but I didn’t feel out of place with Jared by my side.

  ‘Good evening, everyone.’ The instructor strode into the room and I was delighted to see it would be Courtney taking the class. He looked divine in a pair of tight black shorts displaying his muscled thighs and calves and a tight white T-shirt which showed every contour of his body beneath. It would be worth the class just to see Courtney again. Or so I thought.

  ‘I see we have a couple of newbies today. Hi, Ruth and… I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name.’ My knees felt soft beneath my frame and I felt an old-fashioned swoon coming on. He’d remembered my name!

  Courtney took the class through some stretches, which I found quite strenuous, and couldn’t wait until they were over. At least the exercise would be more gentle on the bikes.

  Ha!

  ‘Right, on your bikes.’ Courtney clapped his hands together before he straddled the bike in the centre. ‘And remember – Strength, Stamina and Speed. Let’s start gently.’

  I could do gentle and began pedalling in unison with the class, our legs happily swishing round and round. I felt my lips pull up into a smile. This class was a dream for me: easy, light exercise while in the presence of the magnificent Courtney.

  Music was suddenly piped into the room, music with a fast beat that made my gut churn with uneasiness. The music did not fit our soft footwork and I was afraid of what was to come. My instincts were correct.

  ‘Remember: Strength, Stamina, Speed.’ Courtney focused his eyes on the group as he gripped his handlebars. ‘Let’s kick it up a notch!’ With a flurry of movement, the class began pumping their legs faster and faster, cycling like their lives depended on it, their knuckles white from their grip on their handlebars. I glanced sideways and saw that Jared was cycling like a maniac.

  Fuck.

  I pumped my legs as fast as I could, panting and weeping within seconds. My chubby legs were not made for mad dashes.

  I was relieved when Courtney spoke again. He was going to tell us to slow down again – or even better, stop completely.

  ‘We go faster in ten.’ What? ‘Ready?’ And Courtney, who had moments ago appeared gorgeous and kind, turned into a mean bastard as he began to count down. ‘Go!’ The legs around me pumped even harder, the beat of the music and Courtney’s watchful eye spurring them on. I willed my own legs to keep up but they were having none of it. They were going as fast as they were ever going to go, which wasn’t very fast at all.

  ‘Ten more seconds now.’

  I didn’t think I had two more seconds left in me, but I managed to keep going, albeit at a quarter of the speed of the others. Relief washed over me as Courtney reached zero.

  ‘Now up you get.’ Courtney, feet still on the pedals, stood, pedalling away as his body bobbed up and down. The class duly followed suit while I attempted to copy. My knees trembled, my calves cried out and I didn’t dare imagine what my face looked like as I grunted with each rotation.

  ‘Now press-ups. Go!’ Courtney, while still pedalling, bent down towards his handlebars before popping up again. Up and down he went, the others somehow keeping up with the mad bastard. I couldn’t do a press-up on the floor, never mind on a bloody bike.

  On and on he went, bobbing up and down with ease while I clung onto my bike, willing death to come and take me away from this torture. Sweat poured out of my body, prickling at my skin and I was sure there would be a puddle underneath my bike. Funny, there was no such puddle under Courtney’s bike.

  ‘Five, four, three, two, one, relax.’

  I could have wept at that glorious word. Relax. Yes please. Except in Courtney’s world, relax didn’t mean stop, it simply meant slow down a tad. The other cyclists, while in a so-called relaxed state, were still pedalling faster than I had been during the more strenuous cycle. We did at least get to sit down, which I was grateful for.

  On and on the class went. Up, down, cycling like a bitch, slowing down, press-ups, more resistance, less resistance. I couldn’t last much longer, my body ready to keel over, and I hadn’t even been going at the same pace as the sadists around me.

  ‘Resistance down, legs speed up. Go!’ I would never look at Courtney with lust again. I would project only hate. ‘Now quicker. Come on everybody, keep up!’

  I was openly weeping, sweat and tears mingling on my cheeks. I wanted to go home, to curl up on the sofa with Billy and a family sized bag of peanut M&Ms.

  ‘Slow down now.’

  I was convinced I’d hallucinated those words but my watery eyes spotted the pace around me drop. It dropped further and further and then Courtney was clapping and telling everyone how well they’d done. He picked up a blue towel with the Roxy logo on it and wiped the sweat from his face. Part of me was glad he’d sweated too, but mostly I just wanted to crawl off the bike and rip the bastard’s nuts off. Jared helped me off the bike, my energy completely depleted, and helped me towards the female changing rooms. My throat was raw from gasping so it was a good while before I could speak again. By the time I could, we were sitting in The Bonnie Dundee, gl
asses of orange juice in front of us.

  ‘I would rather be fat than do that ever again.’

  ‘You’re not a fan of spinning class then?’

  I shook my head. It hurt. Everything hurt and I knew it would be even worse in the morning. ‘Even being massaged by a naked Courtney couldn’t make up for that.’ I almost smiled at the thought but my muscles refused to respond.

  ‘Doesn’t your boyfriend mind you lusting after other men?’

  I gave Jared a blank look, wanting to convey confusion but being physically unable to do so. ‘I don’t have a boyfriend. Why do you think I’m putting myself through this torture?’

  Jared, who had barely broken out in a sweat during the class, found it easy to convey a look of confusion and I found myself feeling jealous that his face worked properly. ‘But the bloke I saw you with outside your house the other day…’

  ‘Messy brown curls?’ Jared nodded and I’d have laughed had I had the energy resources. ‘That’s Billy, my housemate. I’ve known him all my life. Kissing him would be like kissing my brother.’ I attempted a shudder but none was forthcoming so I voiced my disgust instead. ‘Yuck.’

  ‘Oh. I see.’ Jared took a sip of his orange juice. ‘So we’re not doing spinning class next week?’

  Was he mental? ‘No.’

  ‘How about another class?’

  ‘Do you want to drink that orange juice or wear it?’

  Jared smiled and moved his glass out of my reach. It was a lovely smile that sent a warm gush to my stomach. ‘There are loads of classes to choose from. They won’t all be like spinning.’

  It must have been the smile that did it because I found myself scrutinising the noticeboard the following evening, choosing the women-only aerobics class. Not only would my wobbly bits be hidden from male view, the class took place on Thursdays, giving me a few days to recover from the hellish spinning class.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Billy

  Clare stood in front of Billy in the hallway, her fingers tugging at the knot of his tie. He’d thought it was pretty neat but apparently not.

  ‘There we go. Perfect.’ Clare smiled at Billy and smoothed down his charcoal jacket. Clare had picked out the suit for him, along with the navy tie to match her calf-length dress with beaded sash. She’d teased his hair into neat, respectable curls that bounced from his skull and made him feel like a bit of a dickhead. ‘Shall we get going? We don’t have to be at the church until two but I said we’d meet Mum and Dad outside so we can have a quick chat first. They’re dying to meet you.’ Clare grinned at him as though this was a normal occurrence while Billy felt dread swirl in his stomach. He fought the urge to muss up his hair, tear off the tie and run upstairs to hide under his covers. This was happening way too quickly.

  Clare grabbed her clutch bag and checked her reflection in the mirror in the hallway, making sure no stray hairs had worked their way loose from her up do. Grasping Billy’s hand, more to tug him out of the house than for affection, she led him out to her car. Billy looked so worried at the prospect of meeting her parents, she considered buckling him into his seat herself and locking the car door to prevent him from escaping.

  ‘Relax. They’re nice people and pretty decent as far as parents go.’ She gave Billy’s knee a squeeze before they set off for the little church in Hartfield Hill, a village not too far away and where her cousin was getting married.

  ‘I’m relaxed, I’m relaxed,’ Billy said, though clearly he wasn’t. His jittery legs and fumbling fingers were a dead giveaway.

  ‘You’ll love Abbie and Jon. Abbie’s so lovely. We were like best friends growing up and Jon’s a really nice bloke. Laid back but funny. He runs his own IT company, so you’ll have something in common.’

  ‘It’s his wedding day. I doubt he’ll want to stand around talking about computers. And Abbie won’t be impressed if he does.’

  Clare gave a wave of her hand. ‘Oh, Abbie’s not like that.’

  Yeah, right, Billy thought. All women were like that. One minute they’re fun and up for anything, the next they’re picking out your clothes and slapping gel and shit in your hair. And they went particularly nuts on their wedding day. Abbie would have poor old Jon on a tight leash from now on.

  Their conversation wilted and Clare turned on the radio in the end, humming along until they reached the church. The church sat upon a hill, overlooking the village, with a stone path leading the way up to the small building and graveyard beyond. Both the church and grounds were beautiful and Clare could imagine no better setting for a wedding. She grabbed hold of Billy’s arm as they wandered towards her father’s car. Her parents jumped out of the car to greet them, smiling and shaking hands, wafting perfume and aftershave all over Billy and almost choking him.

  ‘How lovely to finally meet you, Billy. I’m Liz and this is Derek.’ Clare’s mother kissed Billy on the cheek, leaving behind a peach smear, before turning to Clare. ‘We thought we’d go to the little café on the village green before the service.’ She checked the tiny silver watch on her wrist. ‘We have plenty of time and we can have a good old natter and get to know Billy before the crowds arrive.’

  Billy didn’t seem to have much say, as Clare clamped her hand on his arm and the foursome wandered through the village to a little tearoom. He wondered whether he’d have a choice of what he could drink.

  ‘Shall we get a pot? And how about one of those lovely scones? The reception isn’t for a good couple of hours and I’m a bit peckish.’ Liz didn’t wait for an answer before she summoned a waitress and placed their order. Billy didn’t usually drink tea but he drank it to be polite, trying not to grimace with each sip. He was interrogated over the pot of tea and scones, questions firing from both Liz and Derek, and though they smiled and nodded at his answers, Billy was scared of saying the wrong thing. He was exhausted by the time they left the tearoom and made their way back to the church.

  ‘You were great,’ Clare whispered to Billy as they wandered up the stone path. ‘They love you.’

  ‘Really?’

  Clare nodded and gave his hand a squeeze. ‘They couldn’t stand my ex. They thought he was vain and arrogant and only interested in himself. Which he was.’ She gave his hand another squeeze. ‘But you’re not like that. You’re lovely, and Mum and Dad think so too.’

  The service was a bit dull but it didn’t last too long and soon they all spilled out into the churchyard while the wedding party posed for photos. Billy felt a bit out of place when it came to the group shot of all the wedding guests, having not been introduced to the bride and groom yet. The reception took place back in Woodgate, in the huge function room of a posh hotel, red and gold balloons fastened to every available surface and the tables laid meticulously with handmade place settings and red and gold confetti scattered generously across the white tablecloth.

  ‘It looks like Christmas,’ Billy whispered as they were seated. Clare shot him a look, her eyebrows knitted and mouth puckered as she removed her shrug and draped it across the back of her chair. ‘What? I’m not saying that’s a bad thing. Who doesn’t like Christmas?’ Clare’s features softened as she thanked the waiter who was moving along their table to fill their glasses with champagne. ‘Must have cost them a fortune though.’

  ‘The cost isn’t important. This is the wedding Abbie wanted.’

  What kind of wedding did Jon want? Billy thought but he kept his gob shut.

  ‘I think it’s lovely. Abbie and Aunty Jill have worked really hard to make it perfect.’

  And perfect it was. The meal was sumptuous, the champagne and wine flowing, the speeches touching yet humorous. After the meal, the tables were whipped away and a band set up in the corner of the room. More guests arrived, filling the large room.

  Clare clasped Billy’s hand and pulled him to his feet. ‘Come and dance with me.’

  Billy sat back down again. ‘I can’t dance.’ And he hadn’t sunk enough booze to attempt to.

  ‘I’m not asking you to mo
rph into Patrick Swayze.’ Clare gave his hand another tug. ‘Just hold me and sway. Even you can do that.’

  Billy dragged his eyes to the dance floor in front of the band. There were several couples entwined and shifting their feet in rhythm to the music and a group of preteens waving their arms in the air and giggling at the slushy golden oldie music. How hard could it be to sway? And it would make Clare happy.

  ‘Ok, but I won’t be held responsible if I somehow break your ankle.’

  ‘How could you break my ankle dancing to this?’ The song hardly required any vigorous movement.

  ‘Trust me, it could happen.’

  Billy felt like a condemned man as he was led to the dance floor. He looped his arms around Clare’s waist while she draped her arms around his shoulders, resting her head in the crook of his neck. She smelt nice, as she always did, and this dancing lark wasn’t so bad.

  The song came to an end and the intro of ‘Iris’ by the Goo Goo Dolls began. The lead singer of the band grabbed the mic to speak over the intro. ‘Please welcome the new Mr and Mrs Blackman to the dance floor.’ Abbie and Jon skipped onto the dance floor as the crowds oohed and aahed at the couple.

  ‘Doesn’t she look radiant?’ Clare was watching her cousin, a little sigh escaping her lips. Abbie and Jon were gazing at each other with such adoration that it made her chest ache. ‘Have you ever thought about getting married?’

  ‘What?’ Billy was glad they were now watching from the chairs at the sidelines because if they’d still been dancing, he’d have fallen over and brought Clare tumbling down with him. ‘How can you even be thinking about getting married? We’ve only been seeing each other for a few weeks.’ Billy felt his throat close up and looked around in desperation for a drink or an emergency exit.

  ‘It’s been three months, Billy, and I wasn’t proposing. I meant have you ever thought about getting married in general. Not to me, right now. But it’s nice to know that the idea of marrying me is so horrifying.’

  Billy watched as Clare pushed her way through the crowds, grabbed her shrug and elbowed her way outside for some fresh air. What was he supposed to do now?