Trust Me, I’m a Personal Trainer

by Sam Derbyshire

“I just want to get in shape for myself, Callum,” she said quietly, “so that when you leave me, which is quite obviously on your agenda, I may have a chance of finding someone else. I’m only forty-seven, not sixty-five, and I hopefully have a very long life ahead of me. If I don’t let myself go and turn into a frumpy and unhealthy fifty-something, I may have a chance of finding someone who actually loves me and cares about me, as it’s apparent that you can’t even bear to be in my company. It’s not been easy, you know, watching our marriage fall apart. I’m desperately worried about the girls, how do you think they’re going to feel when their whole life falls apart. They’ve got exams, for goodness sake. I bet you haven’t given that a second thought.”

  “Of course I have,” mumbled Callum.

  “Have you? Have you really? I doubt that. You’re so self-absorbed, I don’t even think you have any idea how you’ve made me feel over the last year, ignoring me, sleeping in a separate room, coming home late then locking yourself away in your study and all I’ve ever done is supported you and been the dutiful wife. You couldn’t even talk to me before you jumped in that bloody swimming pool and you’ve continued to shut me out ever since, even though I’ve done everything I can to help you get the best treatment. I don’t even know why you’re asking me such a stupid question, apart from the fact that you are looking to blame me for all this. For Christ’s sake, you should be grateful that I’ve accepted the fact that divorce is around the corner although, if you are looking to blame me for all this to make you feel better, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Despite what you may think, I’m not having an affair with my personal trainer and I have no intention of starting one. If you want a divorce, Callum, why don’t you just get on with it and put us both out of our misery, because quite honestly this is all very draining. You can deal with the dogs, I’m going to bed.”

  And as Maggie, with a shaking hand, closed the door behind her, she realised that the wheels were now well and truly starting to come off.

  CHAPTER 21

  Having opted for the safety of a busy bistro, Thor smiled at Jess as she waved to him from the small corner table near the window. She looked lovely when she smiled and she looked particularly attractive this evening, her long dark hair softly curled around her shoulders. If she could just get her insecurities sorted out, thought Thor, they could have a chance.

  “Hi, sorry I’m late,” he said, kissing her on the cheek. She smelt gorgeous. “A bus had broken down at the end of my road and the taxi couldn’t get in. Have you ordered a drink?”

  “I’ve only just got here,” replied Jess. “I thought I would be fashionably late but you out-did me as usual. I think they come to the table.”

  Thor sat down and signalled to one of the waiters, who promptly appeared with two menus.

  “Do you know what you want to drink?” she asked chirpily, “or do you need five minutes?”

  “Five minutes please,” replied Thor. “Unless you know what you want?”

  He looked at Jess. He loved her lips. Red suited her.

  “I’d like white wine please,” replied Jess. “Shall we share a bottle?”

  Thor instantly felt on edge. He realised it was the romantic option, but he didn’t want to drink much. He had a class and clients in the morning. It was unprofessional to turn up with a hangover.

  “To be honest, Jess, I can’t really drink this evening. I was just going to have a gin and tonic or maybe one glass of wine…”

  Jess sighed and pursed her perfectly glossed lips. Turning away from him, she opened the menu. She didn’t need to say anything, her body language instantly said it all.

  “OK, sorry, can you give us five minutes, thanks?” Thor asked the waiter, who sensing a situation developing was happy to disappear.

  “Sorry, it’s just that I’m working in the morning. I’m happy to have a glass though, if you want to choose the wine.”

  Jess continued to stare at the menu. “It’s not the same though, is it?” she muttered.

  “What isn’t?”

  “Drinking by myself.”

  “You’re not drinking by yourself, I said I’d have a glass. I might stretch to a glass and a half if it makes you feel better, I just can’t drink if I’m working.”

  Jess looked at him. “You’re always working.”

  “I’m not working now.”

  “Yes you are,” Jess replied sulkily. “In your head you’re always working. It’s Friday night, Thor. Why can’t you just stop thinking about work for once. It’s no fun.”

  Thor sighed. He’d only been in the restaurant five minutes and the evening was already heading the wrong way. As expected on a Friday night, the bistro was buzzing which thankfully meant that no one else could sense the frosty atmosphere rapidly descending over their small corner table. Despite the soft lighting and flickering candle light, romance was struggling to find its way in.

  “Jess, I’m not working, I’m here with you because I wanted to see you and spend time with you. I don’t need to drink to enjoy your company. I just don’t want to drink because I’m working in the morning. Lots of people work on a Saturday, Jess, not everyone can get plastered on a Friday night. We don’t have to get drunk to have fun.”

  “But it’s more fun if we have a drink,” sighed Jess.

  “Why?”

  “It just is,” continued Jess. “It’s more of a laugh.”

  “Up to a point,” sighed Thor. “The last time we had a drink you said I was a self-absorbed wanker and threw me out.”

  “Oh you know what I mean,” replied Jess. “It’s Friday night, I want to have a few drinks and a laugh and maybe go to a club, you know, like be normal, like everyone else. Is every Friday night going to be like this?”

  “Like what?” replied Thor.

  “Well, a bit boring,” replied Jess, sitting upright, her arms crossed.

  “Jess, I’ve been here five minutes and we’re already fighting. Can you please just give me a chance?”

  “But I’ve given you lots of chances and it’s always the same. I just want to go out like my other friends, but you’re always working and when you’re not working you’re thinking about work. It’s not normal. I don’t think about work when I’m out with you.”

  “But things aren’t going to change at the moment, we’ve been through this so many times. I’m trying to get a business going. If I don’t turn up or I turn up smelling of booze, my business won’t last long. No one else is paying me apart from my clients. I don’t get a salary like you and I can’t lecture others on being healthy and laying off the booze if I can’t do it myself, can I? I have to set an example, Jess, that’s my business. Surely we can spend time together without having to get pissed?”

  “But it’s not just that, I have to put up with my friends telling me that you shag everyone and that you’re just stringing me along. I get plenty of other offers you know.”

  Thor was exasperated. Why hadn’t he listened to Barbara? He could have been relaxing with a good film by now.

  “I’m sure you do and people love to stir things up but, whatever I say, you’re not going to believe me and if you can’t trust me now then it’s never going to happen, is it? How am I supposed to prove it to you? You’ve either got to take me as I am and accept what I do or there’s not much point. I have to trust you.”

  Jess rolled her eyes. “Oh god, I work in a solicitor’s office with a load of boring old farts. I don’t think you have to worry.”

  “Well I might do,” replied Thor, sitting back in his chair. “They’re probably all minted and some women love a bit of power and cash. How do I know you’re not knocking one of them off?”

  “That’s revolting,” said Jess, glaring at him, “give me some credit.”

  “Well you’re not giving me any, insinuating that I have sex with every woman, whatever age, that signs up to a training session. It’s no different.”

  With the five minutes up, the waiter dutifully reappeared.

  “Sorry, mat
e, we’re not ready,” said Thor, dismissing him again.

  “Yes, it is,” replied Jess, pointedly closing the menu. “It’s easier for men, isn’t it?”

  “Is it? How?”

  “Well you can just have sex and that’s it. For a woman it’s different, it’s emotional.”

  “Not for every woman it isn’t. I know plenty of women who are worse than men.”

  “See,” said Jess triumphantly.

  “What?” replied Thor, completely exasperated.

  “You know plenty of women that like sex.”

  “Yes, but I’m not having sex with them. I have got some morals you know, even though you obviously think I don’t have any. For Christ sake, Jess, this is fucking pointless.”

  For the third time, the waiter appeared. “Are you ready to order now?”

  “No thanks,” sighed Thor, handing him a ten-pound note. “I’m sorry, we’re not staying but can you do me a favour and just order us two taxis please?”

  And as Jess got up and stormed off to the ladies, Thor made a pact with himself that this definitely had to be the very last time.

  * * *

  Rachael put the kettle on. Once again, Rex had disappeared to his usual spot in front of the TV.

  “Tea or coffee?” asked Rachael, opening the cupboard. “I’ve got peppermint if you want something healthy.”

  “Wow,” replied Amy. “What’s got into you? I never thought I’d see you buy peppermint tea.”

  Rachael smiled as she took out the box. She didn’t particularly like it but it was better than black tea which, in her opinion, needed sugar to make it drinkable.

  “Well I’ve started going to a personal trainer,” said Rachael, placing the tea bags in two mugs, “and I’m trying to lose weight. He’s going to weigh me every week so I’m trying to stick to the plan.”

  “Oh my god,” laughed Amy, “did you say ‘he’? Oh well done, Mum, that’s awesome, is he good-looking? What does Dad say? Have you told him?”

  Rachael lowered her voice. “Oh he just takes the piss as you can imagine and I’m sorry, Amy, but he’s the reason I’m going. I don’t want to upset you, but I’ve actually told him I want a divorce. I know he’s your father but he’s a nightmare to live with and, to be honest, love, I don’t think I can put up with him for much longer.”

  Amy took the mug and dunked the tea bag up and down in the water. She was touched that her mum obviously felt she could trust her.

  Rachael sat down.

  “Oh I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be telling you this, he’s your dad, it’s not fair on you. Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Mum, it’s OK,” replied Amy gently. “I’m a grown woman and I’ve got eyes in my head. I love Dad to bits, I always will, but I wouldn’t want to be married to him. It can’t be easy for you, he’d do my head in.”

  Rachael smiled at her. “Yep, he pushes me to the edge quite frequently.”

  “So, have you met someone else?” asked Amy cautiously.

  “No,” replied Rachael, “but if I’m going to be on my own, I think I should look after myself. That’s why I signed up with a personal trainer. I couldn’t get in shape by myself, I wouldn’t know where to start. I’ve never been anywhere near a gym before. He nearly killed me in the first session and when he weighed me he said I was borderline obese.”

  Amy tried not to laugh as she tried to picture her mum in the gym. She’d never even worn trainers before.

  “I’m not going by myself, Maggie Dunbar’s going too,” continued Rachael, “but she’s really keen, as you can imagine, and she’s making me go to circuits.”

  Amy was astonished. “Maggie Dunbar? What, posh Maggie? Since when have you been friends? I thought you couldn’t stand her,” Amy replied.

  “I couldn’t, but we went on that weekend away and I got to know her. She is posh and a bit mad, but she’s actually hilarious and she’s got a heart of gold. She’s been encouraging me a lot actually. She’s picking me up in the morning, there’s a class at nine-fifteen.”

  “Circuits?” said Amy, impressed. “Well done, Mum, I’m really proud of you.”

  “Thanks, pet.”

  As they both dunked their tea bags, they both retreated into their own thoughts. As the sound of the TV drifted through to the kitchen, Rachael got up from the table and closed the kitchen door. Ignoring the siren call of the biscuit tin, she sat back down at the table. “I do worry about your dad though,” she said with a sigh. “He drives me mad but I do wonder how he’s going to cope on his own. He can’t do anything for himself. I’ve tried getting him to move out but he’s not trying to look for anywhere else to live. I think he thinks if he ignores it, it will all go away. I can’t talk to him. He just laughs as if it’s some big joke. He thinks I’m having a mid-life crisis.”

  The thought had crossed Amy’s mind too, but she decided to keep quiet.

  “He was staying at Davie’s,” continued Rachael, “but even he’s got fed up with him. He’s drinking too much and living on crap, and I’ve no idea how he manages to keep the business running. Apparently, he’s very good at networking, according to Steve and he always manages to pull off a good deal, but the property market’s struggling now and that’s why I think he’s drinking more. But I’m just so tired of it all, love, it’s been like this for years. He’s just worn me down.”

  Amy didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t really much she could say that was going to make any difference. All she could do was listen and maybe she could try and talk to her dad and talk some sense into him.

  “Anyway,” said Rachael, changing the subject. “You’re looking very well and you’ve lost some weight. Are you still playing hockey?”

  “On and off,” replied Amy, “but I’ve lost weight since I’ve been vegan. I think it’s all the fat I’ve given up. You should try it.”

  “Well maybe I will,” laughed Rachael. “We can start tomorrow. At least my diet sheet will look better on Monday and hopefully if I start feeding your dad hummus, or whatever it’s called, for dinner, I can finally get him to bugger off.”

  “You’re on,” replied Amy. “If I can borrow the car and you pay, I’ll go to the shops in the morning.”

  “Done,” smiled Rachael. “Right, I’m off to bed. Maggie will be here sharp so I’d better get some sleep. Night, love. It’s good to have you home.”

  “Night, Mum. I love you lots. Thanks for tonight.”

  And as Rachael closed the sitting room door and once again left Rex snoring on the sofa, she was surprised to find herself actually looking forward to the class in the morning.

  “Be the person you want to be,” she muttered to herself as she climbed the stairs, remembering the writing on the gym wall. She still ached from the class last night. “Every step is a step closer to your goal,” she repeated to herself as she closed the bathroom door. But, as she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt a pang of sadness as she thought about so many wasted and very lonely years. It wasn’t too late to turn things around, she knew that, but whether she could find the courage to see things through, she had no idea. She wasn’t used to putting herself first but, as Thor had said to her in the first session as she lay panting on the gym floor, she had to start loving herself and treating her body as a best friend. If she could start caring for herself, life would change. At the time, she had just thought he was talking hippy shite, but maybe he actually had a point. And as the realisation hit her that she had nothing to lose apart from love handles, a wobbly arse and a useless husband, she promised herself that she really would try to start loving herself and give the new regime a real go.

  CHAPTER 22

  Saturday

  As usual, Maggie was on time. Leaving Rex and Amy fast asleep, Rachael closed the front door quietly and climbed into Maggie’s Range Rover. For the end of September it was unusually warm, although the air carried a hint of autumn. Maggie turned down the radio as Rachael shut the door.

  “Good God, what are you listeni
ng to? Is that Radio 1? I thought you were a Radio 4 fan,” said Rachael, fastening the seat belt.

  “It’s called Grime,” replied Maggie smugly. “It’s actually quite poetic if you listen to it. If they taught this in English classes, the kids might be interested.” Rachael grimaced. She didn’t share Maggie’s enthusiasm; sometimes her sanity was questionable.

  “So, how are you?” Rachael continued, feeling flustered as a trickle of perspiration settled itself in her cleavage. “God, it’s warm this morning. I’m going to sweat buckets and I’m sure I’m starting to get hot flushes, just to make my life even more bloody intolerable than it is already.”

  Maggie wasn’t really listening; she was still thinking about her conversation with Callum last night. Fortunately, she’d managed to avoid him this morning and hopefully he’d be golfing with his mates by the time she got home. She had no desire to get into another spat for a while. She needed to take stock and regroup.

  “You’re very quiet,” said Rachael. “Are you OK?”

  “Sorry, I’ve got a lot on my mind,” replied Maggie, glancing at Rachael as she tried to open the window. “Sorry, are you too hot? You look a bit flushed. I’ll turn the air con on.”

  “Thanks,” replied Rachael, taking a swig of water as Maggie turned on the fan.

  “Callum accused me of having an affair with Thor last night,” Maggie continued. “Well, not just me. According to Rex, you are too. He’s having sex with both of us apparently, which is pretty decent of him.”

  If only,” said Rachael. “As if Thor would be interested in me, although I can live in hope. Did Rex really say that? Does Callum actually believe him?”

  “Apparently yes. According to him, we’re both going through a mid-life crisis and getting laid by our personal trainer. He’s obviously trying to find something to hang on me for when he starts divorce proceedings, to make himself feel better. It was unbelievable, he’d spent the whole of yesterday shacked up in a hotel room with his floozy, then he took the dogs for a walk so he could talk to her. I know that because he left his phone behind, which was great because it gave me a chance to hack his phone. A message from her popped up while I was looking at it. He was in a foul mood when he came back looking for it, then he had the nerve to start on me in the evening and accuse me of having an affair. I know I am, but he’s still got a nerve. He doesn’t actually know I am, he just thinks I am. He’s just pushing me to see if I’ll crack.”