The Bad Boyfriends Bootcamp

by The Bad Boyfriends Bootcamp (retail) (epub)

  Rob scrunched his eyes a little at the corners in confusion. ‘Really? That’s odd because I thought Josie and—’

  A screeching peel of laughter broke the spell that had Molly in a bubble with just Rob’s voice. She looked over to her normally fashion-conscious friend who was now rolling about on the kitchen floor in hysterics, picking up crumbs with her best cashmere plum-coloured cardigan.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Molly called out.

  ‘Weeeaaahhhaaa! Gary said … we were talking about meerkats and he … he said … “Simples”! Waaahahaha!’

  Even Gary didn’t quite know how he’d been so funny. The others watched Rachel’s obvious merriment with drunken contemplation. Eventually she ran out of steam and sat up straight.

  ‘Oh.’ She nodded slowly. ‘I’m drunk. Molly: bedtime.’

  The two girls held hands, ambled out of the room and waved a silent goodbye at the door.

  ‘Someone needs to set the dishwasher off! Please!’ Molly hissed merrily from the stairs. There was then a stifled giggle as the friends wobbled off to bed.

  ‘Don’t let me sleep in, Rachy Wachy, want to go and get that magazine first thing. Hiccup.’

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, did you forget your bucket and spade?’ Josie barked down at Kurt, as he took a moment to catch his breath, bent over with his hands on his knees.

  ‘No!’ he snapped back, surprisingly boldly and with a touch of irritation in his red face.

  It looked as if Josie flinched for just one second before regaining her steely composure as the leader of the pack, fully decked out in military fatigues on this early-morning beach workout.

  ‘Then move it move it move it!’ she shouted, full into his face. Kurt straightened up, gave something between a tsk and a huff, and sprinted off to meet the others who were running down to the water’s edge and back up the shingle beach. Josie had called it her ‘Chicken Run’ – only the bravest would keep running into an oncoming tide, getting their feet wet with icy cold salt water. But those that didn’t would face something even worse … which she hadn’t quite decided on yet, but these really sadistic trials seemed to occur to Josie quite organically. Maybe something involving squats. Squats were evil.

  But Kurt was turning back. ‘Seeing as no one else is here, I can be honest: I know why you’re doing this, Jose, but I just think you’re taking it a bit far! You’re really pushing me. OK?’ he managed between wheezing breaths.

  Jose made a frustrated sound between a growl and clearing her throat. ‘If I don’t make it seem like I’m the hardest on you then it won’t work at all. You know how I feel, honey. That’s what matters. The rest is all necessary performance. For now.’

  Kurt looked down at the pebbly beach and turned over a pile of stones with his trainered toes. ‘Yes, OK. Sorry, sweet pea. I’ll suck it up.’

  ‘And if I get so much as ONE PEEP out of you!’ Josie bellowed as the rest of the guys sprinted back into earshot. Kurt gave a salute and joined the gang on their next lap to the waterfront.

  And a rather less speedy running figure caught Josie’s eye out to her left. It looked like Rach, from the thigh-length camel coat with fur trim. And it seemed like she was clutching a magazine.

  ‘You. Have to. See. This. Now,’ she spluttered on reaching her athletic co-private. ‘Bloody. Cheek. Of Molly.’ She put her hands on her knees to catch her breath but the red of her cheeks wasn’t fading at all – it was the flush of anger.

  Chapter Thirty

  Thwack. The heavy coloured print hit Molly’s warm pillow.

  ‘Wha—?’

  ‘Wake up, Colonel. We need to talk.’

  Molly prised open her eyes and struggled to sit up in one fluid movement. ‘What time is it? Why didn’t anyone wake me up?’

  Plopping down heavily on the bed, Rach said through clenched teeth, ‘I decided to let you have a lie in and surprise you with a copy of the magazine here for when you woke up. But, in fact, I’ve had the surprise. You don’t mention us once. The whole bootcamp sounds like your idea, your sole enterprise. Josie and I don’t get so much as a look in!’

  ‘Yeah!’ Josie chimed in with a tone that sounded both hurt and shocked at the same time. She was filling the doorway in her military fitness garb, so Molly figured she missed the early-morning workout.

  ‘What? Huh? I haven’t even read it but … maybe they quoted me wrong. Can I just read it, please, instead of getting the Spanish inquisition before coffee is safely in my system?’

  ‘Fine, read it. But I bet you can’t deny what’s printed there, in black and white. It’s … grrr, it’s bloody typical!’

  Molly’s head throbbed unhappily as she sat up fully against the velour headboard. She followed Rach’s pacing back and forth at the bottom of her tiny bed until it made her feel dizzy. Steady, lady. This can’t just be because of an article, can it? What’s going on? She brushed the hair out of her eyes and desperately tried to catch up, despite clearly being the only one still hungover and in their pyjamas.

  ‘What’s going on? What … gah … grrr! ‘ Rach threw up her hands and exhaled in frustration. ‘Josie, you tell her.’

  ‘Ok, so,’ Josie chose her words carefully, the natural peacekeeper of the three, ‘we totally respect your position in the team, but we think sometimes that you, um, OK, you go a bit far. With the rules and the schedules and handling things on your own. It feels like, more and more, that you’re training us as well as them. The colonel thing was a joke to start with but now …’

  ‘You think I really consider myself your colonel? Oh, come on, what on Earth would make you think—’

  ‘You want examples?’ Rach broke in again, bubbling over with annoyance. ‘Fine. You organised the cookery class without even mentioning it to us; same with the fourth date seminar that we wanted to contribute to; Jose even asked if she could do more, make the most of her sports psychology training and you flatly turned her down. And now, to top it off, you trumpet your own cleverness in a national women’s magazine and we don’t even get a name check!’ Rachel was almost shouting now, her cheeks scarlet and her usually smooth locks frazzled and inelegantly tousled.

  Molly was unusually speechless. Being bombarded with her supposed character flaws before her feet had hit the carpet was a little too much to take on a weekend break. She felt her own surge of annoyance creep up her neck and into her reddening cheeks. ‘Look, we all agreed what our roles would be at the start, we agreed the rules; it’s not like I’ve been some sort of tyrant here.’ She hit the bedclothes with a clenched fist.

  ‘We didn’t agree on all the rules,’ Josie muttered, leaning against the doorway.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Hey, what’s with the raised voices?’ Kurt was springing up the stairs, two at a time. ‘Are you OK?’ he held Josie softly by the upper arm, just as she collapsed against him in a hug.

  ‘I … hate … arguments,’ she whimpered into his sweaty T-shirt.

  ‘I know, sweet pea, I know,’ Kurt soothed, running one hand down the back of her neck and across her shoulders.

  Sweet pea? Molly thought. Really? Kurt and Josie … sitting in a tree?

  Molly started to feel a bit wigged out.

  ‘Oh, Molly,’ Josie breathed out softly, after turning her face back to face her friends. ‘I wanted to tell you another way …’

  ‘Tell me … ?’ Molly blinked. Hard. Several times.

  ‘We didn’t plan this,’ Kurt offered, after clearing his throat.

  Josie nodded and without thinking leant closely into Kurt. ‘Yes, exactly. The thing is, lady, that we just sort of clicked.’

  Finally, Molly managed to splutter a reply, as her shocked synapses kicked into life and brain function returned. ‘Clicked?’

  With a wince of hurt on her sun-kissed rosy cheeks, Josie gulped hard. ‘Sometimes you just can’t help who you … fall in love with.’

  ‘Love?’ Kurt and Molly echoed together, each equally shocked by this full-
on admission. Kurt moved just a centimetre or two away from Josie, but only to be able to look at her more clearly. ‘You’ve fallen in love with me? Me?’ It was like Kurt had just won the lottery – but suspected he’d found someone else’s ticket.

  ‘Yes, you little joker. Of course you!’ A brief ray of Josie’s usual sunshiney disposition broke through her serious look.

  ‘Wait, wait. When did this start? How long have you been keeping this a secret from me? Josie, we had an understanding!’

  Josie’s expression went from clouded with worry to stormy with frustration.

  ‘Christ, Mols, we go to all this trouble to keep things from you so we won’t cause any trouble and when you find out that I’m seeing someone – the person I’ve been telling you has made me so happy these last months – the first thing you think of is yourself! No “Well, Jose, I’m happy for you”, no “Hey, two of my friends are getting together – how cool”.’ Josie was really building up a thunder cloud of anger now. Unearthing all the little barbed lightning bolts that she’d obviously stored up for a good while, she was a force to be reckoned with.

  ‘I – well, I am happy for you, I … it just wasn’t what we agreed.’ Molly lifted her shoulders in an innocent gesture.

  ‘No, it wasn’t what you agreed,’ Rach waded back in, ‘and I think I can speak for the both of us when I say we’re fed up with being treated like we’re just accessories in your businesswoman of the year outfit!’

  ‘I just can’t take any more of this negativity, sorry guys.’ Josie shook her head and left the room, quickly hurrying down the stairs.

  For a moment Kurt was quiet. Then he said, in a carefully controlled voice, ‘I never would have met Josie if it hadn’t been for you, Mols. Partly because I never would have had the confidence to talk to someone so amazing, so … full of life. And I’m really grateful for that. But I’m not going to let anything stand in the way of what we’ve got, and what I hope it could become. I’m sorry if that ruins your plans, but it’s the way it is.’ Kurt looked at Molly, his back straight, his hands in his pockets. He gave a thin smile as he followed Josie out of the room.

  ‘When did I suddenly turn into Cruella De Vil?’ Molly exclaimed, feeling a choked sob catch in her throat. Everyone was making her out to be this love-hating monster, but she’d only wanted to keep things professional, to keep hold of the reigns. Still, she couldn’t deny that seeing Josie and Kurt together had freaked her out a bit. It was just that they were friends she kept in different boxes in her mind – plus, she was so used to Josie grilling Kurt extra hard out in the park. But obviously that was just a double bluff; it seemed quite cunning now.

  ‘Who would have guessed that Josie and Kurt would hit it off?’ Molly threw up her hands to indicate how mad all this was. But Rachel wasn’t shrieking in shock, or slapping her hands to her cheeks, or peeling her eyebrows off the ceiling. She was stoney faced and still. ‘You knew!’ Molly almost laughed.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So I’m the only one that didn’t know? Great. Just great.’

  ‘Ironically, we didn’t want to tell you because we thought you’d be annoyed.’ Rachel’s eyes were grey and dull, her voice was flat with disappointment. ‘We thought there might be a better time, and place, maybe when the bootcamp was finished.’

  ‘Finished? This isn’t a summer camp, Rach. This is my livelihood, my business!’

  ‘Oh, really? Yours, is it? Because, funnily enough, I thought we were in this together. As partners, privates – whatever! But it’s clear you felt otherwise.’ Rachel picked up the glossy magazine from the duvet. Her knuckles were white as they waved the shiny pages in front of Molly’s confused face. ‘Josie and I sometimes feel like you don’t take us seriously. And what you’ve said in that article seems to prove that. We’re not your employees, Mols.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘Do you?’

  ‘Rach!’ Molly’s hurt and anger rose to the surface of her skin in a rash of blushing. ‘You should have told me how you felt. I can’t fix things if you don’t tell me.’

  ‘Grrr!’ Rachel’s frustration spiked again. ‘It’s not about things being fixed by the all-wonderful super-achieving Molly Cooper! You’re not listening. God, I just … grrr. You might as well know that there is no Greg in my life, just like there was no Kevin for Josie. It’s Gary. Me and Gary. So get over it.’ Turning on a suede heel, Rachel marched down the corridor and slipped into one of the guys’ rooms.

  ‘Oh, perfect! Now I just need Pavel and Sachin to hook up and I’ll have a complete set,’ she spat out crossly to herself. ‘Obviously keeping me in the dark is a new bootcamp rule. Fine. Fine!’ Snatching the mag, Molly echoed Josie’s stomping steps as she fled the house.

  * * *

  Pebbly beaches were always a lot more enjoyable to look at than they were to sit on. Molly’s bum had patches that were numb after her three-hour impromptu sit in and other patches that were still fighting to stay awake and tell her how sore they were. It didn’t matter. Molly wasn’t going back. How could she?

  A tight lump of dread filled Molly’s stomach as she re-read the article, like poking a bruise you knew was deep.

  Ever had a Bad Boyfriend?

  Of course you have, but – as Meena Grewal finds out – it doesn’t mean you have to put up with him that way. Just send him to The Bad Boyfriend’s Bootcamp …

  Molly Cooper is a modern businesswoman – sharp, insightful, always ready to capitalise on a new demand or trend. But a demand that never goes out of fashion is for good boyfriend material. I can practically hear you yelling Amen! as you read this.

  Molly’s new business venture is a makeover service for men. She’ll strip them down and build them up again – to your design. For all those men that drop old socks by the sofa, that are allergic to washing up, that think being a good listener is just staying awake and nodding, help is at hand at The Bad Boyfriend Bootcamp. One-to-one sessions will help train you to deal with every and any dating dilemma, given by Molly herself (aka The Colonel). Molly heads up this quirky enterprise as its military leader – a woman full of energy and vision. Chatting in her South London flat and base-of-operation, while a bootcamp cadet waited patiently for his session, Molly told me how the whole concept had sprung from her brother’s failures at dating. After shaping him up and shipping him out back on the dating scene, he met his fiancée. They are now very much in love and travelling the world together before their wedding later this year.

  Molly’s next triumph was with John, a friend of a friend with a major case of the breakup blues. After being dumped by his significant ex Melissa, John just couldn’t pick himself up and dust himself down. Until Molly came along. Now she’s helped him transform his attitude, his wardrobe and his six-pack through her bootcamp. Molly describes recruitee John as ‘my best success to date’ and is beaming with pride to report that ‘he is now completely over his ex and is moving on with his life. With a better haircut to boot.’ The basic components of the bootcamp experience – dating skills, fashion choices and all-round health – are offered on top of an email and text advice service that sends out top tips for dating survival. Molly is even working on an App. ‘One of my first bootcamp privates suggested it as a joke, but actually it’s a pretty good idea!’ Molly laughed as we shared a cup of tea. ‘But what I really want to achieve with the bootcamp is to share those basics truths that we women know to be crucial in the game of love. I’m not about changing men, just polishing them up a bit, here and there. I show them the light. And I only work with guys who are truly ready to commit – I can sniff a player out from a mile away. Usually just by the Issey Pour Homme he’s wearing. I hope my bootcamp will do a really good thing, for both the men and women of this world. The single ones, anyway!’

  So, if you’re sick and tired of a useless lump for a boyfriend (or maybe you’re a boyfriend reading this magazine in his girlfriend’s living room on the sly, and suspect you’re not up to scratch) swing by Molly’s website and
sign up for a free 10-day trial, exclusively available to our readers with the code BADBOYS.

  Bad boyfriends of Britain: beware.

  The Sesame Street episode playing out in Molly’s psyche, while she sat on the less than comfy stones of the windy beach, had just one letter that day: I.

  I I I I I.

  The letter swam in front of her eyes, in duplicate and triplicate and then some. The whole article had been about her. She hadn’t once mentioned Josie or Rachel by name, even by their silly cadet monikers. Rachel had been right, and Molly was dreading going back to the house to face the music. And the tension. Not that they’ll be tense. They’ve probably got their new lover boys to give them lovely deep tissue massages.

  But wasn’t it fair enough that Molly had talked about herself? It was, when it came down to it, her business. It was ‘Molly Cooper’ on the forms at Companies House. The other girls had their day jobs, but to Molly this was everything. She was the one taking the big risks, the one staking her reputation on this venture, the one doing the publicity for God’s sake! She flicked the open magazine with her fingers, as if to banish any self-doubt still hidden between the print. No, she refused to feel bad. This article was for the best of the bootcamp and to have brought loads of other names into it would just have confused things. This mention had great brand focus, that’s what she had to remember. Molly didn’t even want to be called The Colonel, if they were getting down to brass tacks, but the girls had insisted on it. Which they have conveniently forgotten, she seethed to herself.

  And once the seething snowball starts, it rarely stops.

  I don’t see them getting any national magazine coverage.

  I don’t see THEM honing individual case studies for the privates and listening to their every quibble about why they’re so insecure about their upper arms or kissing techniques.