Audrey and I went for a jog at the crack of dawn today for the first time in months and we bumped into a woman with whom I was acquainted years ago. She used to look like a mutant version of Jennifer Aniston. Huffing and puffing uphill this morning she just looked like a mutant.
She was jogging towards me along the footpath that leads over the sheep fields to the Memorial at Crich. I recognised her as she drew near and my heart sank. I used to dislike her intensely. She was the receptionist for a studio in Mansfield in which I used to work, and if I stated that we didn’t appreciate each other’s company, I would be, yet again – very much like one of my literary heroes, Bill Bryson – indulging in riotous understatement. Needless to say, I knew to a moral certainty that I was not about to enjoy our encounter.
‘Davy?‘ she panted as she drew near.
‘Well, well. Hello, Kristin. How are you? I haven’t seen you in years.’
‘Fine. Fine. Just moved into a new house in Blackwell with Jeff – you remember Jeff?’
‘Of course. Good old Jeff. How is he, your Jeff?’ I had no idea who Jeff was.
‘Davy, you’re looking absolutely wonderful. I can’t believe it! Really athletic and toned. You must work out a lot.’
Old animosities were suddenly forgotten in the parade of years. Kristin was my new best friend.
‘Well, actually – ‘
‘You must come round to visit. Jeff would love to see you again.’
‘Yes, I – ‘
‘Come to one of our swingers parties. You’d be very welcome with a physique like that.’
‘Pardon?’
‘You’d be very popular with all of my special lady friends – and one or two of my older male friends, too. You’ll make the hairs stand up on the backs of their little legs, you really will. Tuesdays. Eight o’clock.’
I tried to smile. I tried not to say anything. I was afraid that, as usual, in so doing, my mouth would slip and I would offend. But I did say something – and it wasn’t what I was expecting to hear come out of my mouth. It was this: ‘Yes, quite. That would be delightful.’
I think I’ll forget about jogging for the foreseeable future and confine my workouts to the gym in the village. It’s a good gym – small, but good.
{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
Are you sure ‘Jim’ and ‘gym’ aren’t the same thing?
Boo, mistook ‘Jeff’ for ‘Jim’. That’s rubbish now. Sorry.
In my universe Jim and Jeff are the same thing so it’s ok. Relax, Josh.
Keep Audrey out of the line of sight of those swingers too! She is very pretty.
She certainly is.
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