Page 13 of Fit for Love
I refrained from rolling my eyes. “Thanks, Mrs Jackson, that’s very kind of you, but I can’t accept. You can’t pay me to take your granddaughter out.”
Although that was one money spinner I hadn’t considered.
Mrs Jackson got out of the car and walked towards June. “I’ll see you in an hour and a half, love,” she called. “You can tell me where you’re going to take Betsey.”
The smile stretched across my lips felt tight and forced. “Sure thing, see you later.”
I drove off, my mind clouded with visions of Betsey Jackson and Cora Appleby.
By the time it came for my session with Cora that evening, I was raring to go. After I’d picked up Mrs Jackson again and dropped her home, her next-door neighbour collared me to take her to the larger supermarket in Westbourne, and I ended up waiting for her in the car park. I whiled away the time, reading some more of Cora’s blog, and finding out more about her. Or at least her online persona. She’d barely spoken in the couple of days since arriving at Bayview House. In some ways, that wasn’t a surprise. We hardly knew each other and I doubted she would have confided in me over the situation with her ex. Before I knew it, I had internet-stalked him to find out what he was saying about Cora. Thankfully, there were no overt references to her, except for a statement mentioning something about ‘deep regret’ and ‘no one is a fault’. I snorted at the second one. How could he even think that? No one deserved to be treated how he’d treated Cora. The protective feeling returned. She deserved to be treated with much more respect. I couldn’t stop thinking about her for the rest of the day.
Cora was waiting in the living room, dressed in a form-fitting pair of yoga pants and a loose hoodie. She was wearing in the black wig again, but had left the glasses off.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m not too early, am I? It’s just, well, I’ve been itching to get moving all afternoon. I almost took off for a run, but then realised I didn’t really know where I was going and I didn’t want to get lost.”
“Give me five minutes to get changed and I’ll be with you.” I dashed up to my room and pulled off the clothes I’d been wearing for my taxi shift, before finding suitable gym wear.
When I returned, she had her purse. “I got some cash out. I hope that’s okay?” She drew some notes out and gave them to me. “Is that enough? My London trainers are usually about this much. I can always transfer the money if it’s easier?”
The hundred and fifty pounds burned a hole in my palm, and guilt burned in my stomach. I wasn’t charging Betsey or my other clients anywhere near that much. Maybe around ten per cent of that amount, if I was pushing the boat out. At this rate, I’d have the money for my next trip in no time.
“Cash is fine, thanks, Cora.” I pocketed it before either of us could change our minds. “Shall we get going?”
The receptionist at the leisure centre frowned as Cora and I walked up to the desk. “Evening, Ethan, new client?” Her gaze swept suspiciously over Cora and for a moment, I thought she had recognised her. Given that Westbourne Water was a small town, where everyone tended to know everyone, any newcomer was subject to mistrust until they were accepted by the community. And anyone that looked like Cora would definitely be scrutinised.
“Yep, that’s right.”
“You were here with Betsey last night, weren’t you?”
God, why was everyone obsessed with me and Betsey?
“Again, spot on—getting lots of good business now, so looks as if that advert worked.” I placed a hand in the small of Cora’s back and gently steered her towards the gym. “Chat later,” I said to the receptionist as we walked away.
Cora exhaled a breath as we went into the relative quiet of the gym, where there were just a couple of regulars working out. “I thought she’d recognised me, even with this.” She tugged a lock of the black wig. “I couldn’t bear all the questions.”
“Well, I hope you don’t mind too many questions; I need to complete the fitness assessment first.” I waved a couple of sheets of paper at her.
“Oh, those kind of questions are fine.” She laughed. “Although I know the answers about my diet are going to be questionable…”
Chapter Eight
Cora
Spending the evening with Ethan was a total revelation. He was easy to talk to, and didn’t mention Orlando once.
I’d spoken to Louise again that afternoon, and Orlando had been spotted in his usual haunts, holding court and telling people about his horrific break-up. I couldn’t believe the two-faced gall of the man. He was making himself out to be the victim. Louise asked when I was going back to London, but even after only a couple of days, I felt much more settled in Westbourne Water.
After I’d completed my personal details on his fitness-assessment form, he took it back, and we sat down on the floor, cross-legged and facing each other. I was aware of my posture and sat, ramrod straight, while he read what I’d written.
He asked me some questions about my medical history, then moved on to some health-related behaviour questions—the ones I’d been dreading.
“Do you smoke?”
I shook my head. “No, never.”
“Do you drink alcohol regularly? Oh, I already know the answer to that.” The corner of his mouth quirked as he wrote something down.
“Wait.” I reached out and touched his arm. “You’re right, I don’t drink regularly.” I averted my gaze. “But I did kind of have a moment the other night when I fell off the wagon.”
