Trust Me, I’m a Personal Trainer

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Trust Me, I’m a Personal Trainer Page 4

by Sam Derbyshire


  Kelsey got up from her desk and picked up her bag. Her dress was a little on the shortside and to Kyle’s delight it had ridden up as she’d sat at her desk. As she ran her hands down her thighs to smooth it down, Kyle tried not to stare.

  “Do you want anything from the van?”

  “No thanks,” replied Kyle, trying not to look at her cleavage. “Unless they’ve got a banana. I’m walking like a gorilla, I might as well eat like one.”

  “Oh, poor you,” said Kelsey, not really meaning it. “I’ll see what they’ve got.”

  As Kelsey wiggled her way out to the van, Kyle googled Nutri Bullet. There was quite a range but he could get one for sixty quid. Expensive, but he had nothing else to spend his money on. He could afford it. It was an investment for his future happiness. Kyle looked into the eyes of the healthy, glowing individuals staring out at him from the advertisement on the screen, all with perfectly white, toothy smiles, happily downing their nutritious gloop before heading off, hand-in-hand, into the fit people’s sunset. He just wanted a shag. He filled in the order form and pressed send.

  * * *

  As Rachael opened her front door, she could hear the TV. She would love to change the locks, but he hadn’t found anywhere to stay yet. She’d promised to give him some time, but it was getting more and more difficult to be civil, especially as he seemed to think that if he ignored the whole thing, it would eventually go away. Walking into the kitchen, she smelt the beer and, annoyed, she threw the cans noisily into the recycling bin. As she picked up a cloth to wipe down the worktop, Rex walked into the kitchen. He was still attractive, but his constant drinking was starting to show on his ever-increasing waistline.

  “Hi ya, Rach, busy day?”

  Rachael refused to look at him.

  “Every day is busy in my world, Rex,” she muttered.

  “I checked the fridge, there’s only salad.”

  “That’s because it’s for me, not you.”

  “Do you want to go out or get a takeaway?”

  “No thanks.”

  “Why not, you can’t live on salad.”

  “Of course, I can,” replied Rachael. “I’m on a diet. I’m trying to get fit.”

  Rex laughed. “Bit late for that, isn’t it? Christ, Rachael, you’ve never run in your life, you’ll do yourself damage at your age. Do you actually know what you’re doing?”

  Rachael turned to him. He was such an arrogant tosser.

  “No, I don’t know what I’m doing which is why I’ve signed up with a personal trainer.”

  “Well that won’t be cheap.”

  “Nope.”

  “And does she know what she’s doing? Is she qualified?”

  “Of course he’s qualified.”

  “He? Are you paying good money to go to some gym junkie gigolo? Seriously, Rach, listen to yourself, it sounds like you’re having a mid-life crisis. It’ll cost you a fortune and you’ll be a laughing stock.”

  Rachael put down the knife that she had just taken out of the dishwasher. If she didn’t put it down, she was likely to stab him.

  “You’re right, Rex, I am having a crisis. You’re my bloody crisis and the reason I’m going to Thor…”

  “Thor? Bloody Thor? What sort of name is that? You can’t be serious.”

  If the knife was still in her hand, she would probably have used it.

  “Oh just shut up, will you! Yes, I am serious. I’m going to get myself in shape and get myself back on the market and, hopefully, I’ll find someone who has some interest in me, who cares about me and puts me ahead of his stupid, fucking, pisshead pals. I don’t even know why you’re here. I’ve told you I want a divorce and I’m serious. I hate you. Now please just fuck off and leave me alone.”

  “Oh come on, you need to calm down, Rach. It’s probably hormones, maybe you can get something from the doctors. It’s not healthy, all this shrieking. Stress isn’t good for you, I saw a programme about it on TV. Why don’t I just get us both a takeaway and open a bottle of wine, hey?”

  “Rex!” Rachael screamed, completely exasperated. “Why can you not get it into your thick head? I am calm, the only thing that makes me angry is you. I don’t want a takeaway, I don’t want wine, I’ve just told you I’m on a fucking diet. I am going to get fit, so that when I finally get rid of you I don’t just curl up on the sofa and die. Hopefully, I’ll find someone else but, even if I don’t, I want to get myself a life. I want to go out with a bang, Rex, not shuffle into my old age with a whimper or drink myself into oblivion like you. Now please just piss off and leave me alone.”

  Rex looked at her.

  “I can’t drive.”

  Rachael glared at him.

  “Well you can get a bloody taxi.”

  “And Davie’s got a new woman in.”

  Rachael took a deep breath. She could understand how women murdered their husbands.

  “I hate you,” she hissed. “I’m going for a bath.”

  “Shall I wash your back?”

  And as Rachael slammed the door, Rex opened another beer and called the local takeaway.

  * * *

  Still shaking, Rachael ran a bath and, trying to calm herself down, stared aimlessly into the swirling, soapy water. How could she have put up with him so long? He just didn’t get it; he was so unbelievably self-absorbed he couldn’t get the fact that she wanted him out of her life. As her mobile rang, she turned off the taps. It was Maggie.

  “Hi, Maggie.”

  “Rachael, darling, I survived and you’re right, he is very attractive, very professional. He’s promised me that I will have an arse of iron if I stick with the plan.”

  Rachael smiled. Maggie was hilarious sometimes.

  “And were you overweight? I bet you weren’t.”

  “Borderline, I was eleven stone, which shocked me, so I’m giving up gin. I’ve definitely been drinking more since Callum’s been up to no good, so it has to stop or Myles won’t be interested in me either.”

  “I still can’t get my head around you and Myles Cavendish. God help you if Callum finds out.”

  “Not if, when, it’s only a matter of time, Rachael. To be honest, I can’t believe he hasn’t found out already. Why are you whispering?”

  “Rex is downstairs, I’ve locked myself in the bathroom. He took the piss out of me for going to a personal trainer and I wanted to stab him. I keep telling him to leave but he keeps coming back. Davie Sutherland’s got a new woman in so I’ve got nowhere to throw him out to at the moment. He’s driving me mad.”

  “Well that’s an added incentive to get yourself another man then. On that note, I think we should go the circuits class tomorrow night, let’s just bite the bullet and go for it.”

  Rachael closed the toilet lid and sat down. Her thighs were so painful.

  “Oh, I don’t know, my legs are killing me and you might not be so keen tomorrow. Marnie at work was trying to get me to go; I know a couple of others who go too, but they’re already fit.”

  Maggie wasn’t giving up that easily.

  “But if you don’t go because there are fit people there, you never will; there’ll always be fit people there, but there’ll be unfit people like us too. Don’t be ridiculous, we all have to start somewhere and if you really hate Rex, you need to do something about it.”

  Rachael sighed. She knew she was right, and there was absolutely no point in trying to say no to Maggie Dunbar.

  “OK, but I’m still in agony.”

  “You’ll be fine tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at six.”

  “Did you wet yourself, by the way?”

  “No, but I farted when he made me do those squat things. He didn’t hear me, thank god, or if he did, he didn’t say anything. Did he say you were outside next week?”

  “Yes, it all sounded very ominous. He said I’d be amazed at what we could do outside.”

  Maggie laughed, “I bet he did!”

  “Anyway, better go, I’m only having one gin this evening, so I think I
’ll go and enjoy it before Callum gets home. Enjoy your bath, sweetheart, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  And as Maggie hung up, Rachael pledged allegiance to Thor the god of Thunder and solemnly promised to follow his commandments. It wasn’t going to be easy, but the Promised Land was on the horizon and if the golden chalice was getting rid of Rex, she would take as much pain as he could throw at her. Removing her robe, she lowered herself into the fragrant water and, as she closed her eyes and slipped beneath the soapsuds, she baptised herself into a new and hopefully more fulfilling life.

  CHAPTER 7

  Thursday

  Struggling with her sports bra, Rachael glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It had been a rush getting back from work in time for the six o’clock pick up from Maggie, and she was starving. The circuits class was only half an hour but all she wanted to do right now was flop down on the sofa with something substantial and comforting to eat. She just couldn’t stop thinking about food. Standing in the now secured sports bra and bright pink leggings, Rachael looked at herself in the mirror. In her eyes, it wasn’t an attractive sight. She needed to lose some weight; it wasn’t healthy to be carrying this much fat, especially around her stomach. Sighing, she opened a drawer and pulled out a baggy t-shirt; she wasn’t ready for anything too clingy yet.

  As she pulled the t-shirt over her head she heard the front door bang. Rex was obviously still banned from Davie’s, and he was definitely the last person she wanted to see right now. She wasn’t in the mood for any inane comments. Picking up her hairbrush, she brushed her blond highlighted hair, then applied a touch of lip gloss. She knew it was ridiculous, but it made her feel better. If she dropped dead in the circuits class, at least she’d look good in the ambulance.

  As she walked into the kitchen, Rex was staring once again into a very healthy fridge. She’d stopped cooking for him months ago, frustrated with cooking too many meals that they never ate together as Dawson’s Wine Bar had slowly become his second home.

  “Does Davie not want you either?” she asked, as she filled her water bottle from the kitchen tap. “You need to start looking for somewhere else to stay.”

  Rex closed the fridge door. He would need to get a takeaway again.

  “So where are you going?” he asked, refusing to acknowledge the question, as she in turn refused to look at him.

  “Clubbing,” she replied sarcastically, sitting down at the kitchen table to put on her trainers. Rex stared at her.

  “Dressed like that? It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”

  Rachael looked at him. He wasn’t joking.

  “Are you serious? I’m going to the bloody gym, what does it look like?”

  “Well I wouldn’t put it past you, you’ll be off to Ibiza next.”

  “That’s fine coming from you! At least I don’t try and chat up men half my age.”

  “Oh, I’m sure it won’t be long, Rach, you’ll be on that bloody Tinder site next.”

  “Well I’ll make sure I give you a left swipe when I do,” she replied, trying not to let him annoy her again.

  As her phone beeped, Rachael stood up and picked up her bag. Maggie was outside and on time as usual.

  “Who are you going with?” Rex asked, suddenly realising that Rachael wasn’t driving.

  “Maggie and a few girls from work.”

  “Maggie Dunbar? Christ, what’s got into you lot?”

  Rachael put her water bottle in her bag and turned to face him. He just didn’t get it.

  “Rex, I seriously haven’t got the time or the energy to try and explain any more just how much I currently dislike you, and the sooner you get that into your thick skull, the better for the both of us. Nothing is going to change and I’m not interested in saving our excuse of a marriage. Please, just find somewhere else to live soon, before I bloody murder you.”

  “Oh, come on, Rachael, we can’t go on like this. Let’s talk this through, we’re getting too old for all this nonsense.”

  “Exactly,” she hissed at him. “I’m getting old and the thought of spending any more of my precious time with you is too hideous to contemplate. It’s over, Rex, I do not want to be married to you anymore. The only thing we are going to talk about is the divorce. I’m going to my class.”

  * * *

  Rachael let out a groan as she settled herself in the Range Rover and shut the door.

  “Are you OK?” asked Maggie. “Nice leggings, I certainly won’t lose you in the crowd.”

  Rachael smiled.

  “I know, they’re a bit OTT, but they were in the sale. Rex thought I was going clubbing. I actually hate him.”

  As Maggie drove off, her phone rang. It was Callum.

  “Hi, darling, where are you?” she answered cheerily. She was keen to keep up the façade of happy families for as long as possible.

  “Home, where are you?” Callum sounded grumpy.

  “I’m in the car, with Rachael, we’re going to a circuits class. You’re on loudspeaker, by the way.”

  “A what? Is that some sort of exercise?”

  “Yes, darling, I’ll explain later. I’m sorry, I assumed you’d be late again. There’s a quiche in the fridge or a pork pie and I’ve made a salad if you don’t want to wait. I’m sure you can manage.”

  “I’m sure I can,” he mumbled.

  “Oh well, just go and relax and I’ll see you later. The class is only half an hour but I’ll drop Rachael back, so it’ll be close to eight by the time I get back.”

  As Callum hung up, Maggie switched on the radio.

  “I think we need some music to get us in the mood, don’t you? Grumpy bastard. Obviously she couldn’t make it tonight. I wonder what she’s like?”

  Rachael wasn’t sure how to respond. She didn’t really want to speculate. Maggie wasn’t really listening anyway.

  “I wonder if she’s married? Or younger? And it’s fascinating, isn’t it? I mean, I look at Callum and I think if I was on the lookout for a new man, it wouldn’t be him. Don’t get me wrong, I must have thought he was attractive when I married him; he wasn’t quite so portly then and he had more hair, but now I wouldn’t give him a second glance. I wonder what she sees in him.”

  “She could be after his money?” Rachael replied. “She could be a gold-digger.”

  Maggie laughed. “Well she hasn’t done a very thorough investigation. Our finances are hanging together by a thread, and it’s not going to get any easier with the girls all wanting to go to uni. It’s been tough enough having them at boarding school. And divorce doesn’t come cheap these days, does it?”

  “I don’t know, I haven’t really thought it through. Not that Rex and I have much to divide up. I just want him to bugger off. Maybe you should follow Callum after work and try and catch a glimpse of her.”

  “What with a raincoat and dark glasses?” laughed Maggie. “I can’t be bothered and, to be honest, the longer he stays in his little secret world, the easier it is for me, gives me more time to make a plan. And you need to think about that too. It’s all very well you just telling him to bugger off, but you’ve got to sort out the finances; you could live for another fifty years.”

  “Unless Thor puts me in an early grave. Oh God, we’re here, that was quick; the one night I could have done with heavy traffic.”

  Maggie pulled into the car park. “It’s all for a good cause and it’s only half an hour, it could be a lot worse. Pull yourself together, Rachael, or you’ll never get a new man. Just think about spending the rest of your life with Rex, that should be incentive enough.”

  * * *

  Kyle Cameron pulled into the car park at the gym. He’d promised Thor he would come but the thought of getting out of the car and humiliating himself in a room full of gym bunnies filled him with dread. Turning off the engine, he waited to see who else was heading to the gladiatorial arena. He’d only seen women so far and, as expected, they all looked slim, fit and confident, their outfits probably as coordinated as their ability in the gym. Non
e of them were the size of him. He wasn’t ready for this yet; he would leave it until next week. As he went to start the engine, his phone beeped. It was a message from Thor.

  Get out of the car. There are plenty of other fat bastards in here too.

  Kyle smiled. Reluctantly, he turned off the engine and got out of the car.

  * * *

  “I told you,” sighed Rachael as Maggie turned off the engine.

  “Told me what? Oh, for goodness sake, that bloody woman’s trying to squeeze her car next to mine, I won’t be able to get out. Why can’t people park properly, it really isn’t too difficult. That car is never going to fit in here.”

  “It’s all thin fit people,” continued Rachael, not listening. “I’m going to be the token sad fattie.”

  Maggie glared at the woman trying to park beside her and the woman, admitting defeat, moved off to find another, less-intimidating option.

  “They’re not all thin, Rachael, those two don’t look like they live on kale smoothies and look at him.” Maggie nodded her head towards Kyle. “He’s not exactly Daniel Craig and he’s going.”

  Rachael followed Kyle with her eyes as he trudged towards the gym door.

  “He looks how I feel,” muttered Rachael, “it’s going to be so embarrassing.”

  Taking a swig from her water bottle, Maggie looked at Rachael.

  “Rachael, will you please stop moaning? We are doing this. We are going to do as Thor tells us and turn ourselves into Amazons. Now, take your bag and water bottle and get out of the bloody car. For God’s sake, it’s only a half-hour circuits class. It’s not the Battle of the Somme.”

  CHAPTER 8

  Rachael and Kyle looked around nervously, but to their relief, the range of ages and sizes was extremely broad. Kyle was comforted by the fact that one guy was even fatter than himself and probably ten years older, and Rachael was delighted to see that she was by no means the largest. Still, the thought of being shown up by the woman in very similar pink leggings, who was at least seventy, was terrifying. Maggie, however, was her usual calm and collected self.

 

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