Odd Socks (20 page)

‘Always a pleasure, honey,' she says as I shrug on my coat. ‘Such a shame you can't join us.'

‘Perhaps you'll be home later?'

‘Of course I will!' Mum nods agreeably. ‘But don't you have Bronte and the baby coming home this afternoon?'

‘Bugger!'

‘Anyway, I'm sure we'll get a chance to talk on Sunday at the party. I'm planning on sitting in that lovely little courtyard of yours all afternoon with Rose. And you're welcome to join us. We can talk about whatever you want then. Okay?'

Somehow I've ended up on the front porch in the gusty wind and, as I open my mouth to respond, my mother smiles, waves and shuts the door gently but firmly. So there I stand – cold, open-mouthed, and none the wiser. But at least I'm not hungry.

‘Hell's bells! What on earth
is
that?' Cam points at a shiny metallic contraption that sprouts from one wall of the gym. It has several padded parts, several handles, and several pedals. There is also a suspicious number of scuff marks on the wall behind it, almost as if past patrons have struggled frantically to free themselves at some point.

‘No idea. But we'll give it a miss, I think.'

‘Thank god.'

‘Maybe we'll start with an exercise bike,' I suggest, looking at the row of vacant bikes. ‘How does that sound?'

‘Manageable.'

We wander over to the bikes and I show Cam how to adjust her seat downwards to suit her height. Then, reaching over, I press her control pad to set up a slow and relatively easy climb for ten minutes. I watch her settle into a rhythm while I pull my hair out of its ponytail and redo it roughly into a spiky-looking bun. As long as it stays away from my face, I don't care. This accomplished, I set up my own controls and soon we are cycling away in unison. I glance over at Cam and chuckle to myself because exercise gear doesn't do a thing for her. At least, the exercise gear she is
wearing
doesn't do a thing for her. An oversized green t-shirt and baggy orange tracksuit pants that make her look very much like a well-rounded carrot. I, on the other hand, have shed my coat and jacket and am looking fairly dangerous, if I say so myself. That's one thing about my figure – it may not look all that great in street clothes, but it's just
made
for the gym.

I've never been to this particular place before but I'm quite impressed. It seems to have all the necessary equipment, and a
little bit more. Rows of exercise bikes, treadmills and stair-climbers fill two rooms, while in another an incredible range of weird and wonderful apparatus allows for straining abs, curling biceps and flexing thighs. Large, almost impossibly luscious plants adorn every little nook and cranny, and the latest hits blare out from hidden speakers at a decibel level just loud enough to ensure privacy in conversation without having to shout. We've obviously come at a good time too, because the place is nearly empty.

‘Okay, now tell me again how you didn't get
anything
out of your mother?' Cam looks at me disparagingly as she cycles. ‘I mean, Terry!
Your
mother?'

‘I don't know. I was just winding up for the attack, and then somehow I was outside staring at the door.'

‘Well done,' Cam comments sarcastically.

‘Hey! I don't see you finding anything out!'

‘You want
me
to speak to your mother?'

‘No, I want you to speak to
your
mother!'

‘Well, it looks like I won't have any choice,' Cam says grimly, ‘because that's exactly what's going to happen.'

‘Really?' I look at her in disbelief. ‘You're actually going to tackle your mother about Richard?'

‘I think it's more that she's going to tackle me.'

‘What do you mean?'

‘Exactly what I said.'

‘Okay, enough with the woman of mystery stuff,' I say in exasperation. ‘God! It must be hereditary!'

‘Don't scare me!' Cam grimaces. ‘But all right, I'll tell you
my
news.'

‘Shoot.'

‘Well, I'm not
sure
it's got anything to do with Richard, but I'm just putting two and two together – although I
might
be wrong.'

‘Shoot,' I repeat impatiently, ‘or I will!'

‘Okay, okay,' she laughs. ‘See, Mum rang just after lunch trying to arrange some sort of meeting. That is, she started off trying to arrange a morning tea tomorrow with me and Diane, saying it's ages since she spent any time with her daughters and –'

‘What about Elizabeth?' I ask curiously, as Cam has a habit of forgetting her younger sister or, when she does remember her, referring to her as ‘Bloody Elizabeth' in a manner that speaks volumes about their relationship.

‘Her too. Anyway, she says how it's been ages since just the four of us spent any time together. Without husbands or fiancés or whatever. But when I told her I was busy, because I'm taking CJ to the zoo with her friend Caitlin and her mother, she suggested lunch instead. Like, I'm going to get all around the zoo and back by lunchtime? So then she got really snappy and said she'd ring back.'

‘And did she?' I ask while Cam takes a breath.

‘Yes, about five minutes later.'

‘Sounds like someone wants a little more than a get-together, doesn't it?'

‘My thoughts exactly.' Cam slows her cycling pace down so much that I can see the little red light blinking on her console warning her she's way under what she should be doing. ‘Anyway, it turns out her options were pretty limited because Bloody Elizabeth is busy Friday evening and Diane's busy at your place on Saturday afternoon.'

‘She
is
?'

‘Yep, something to do with Bronte's thing on Sunday. Anyway, we ended up with ten o'clock Saturday morning – at my place.'

‘You'll have to ring me immediately afterwards. Promise?'

‘Promise.'

‘Or I could ring and you could leave your phone off the hook,' I suggest, only half joking, ‘then I could listen in.'

‘She'd have me flogged,' Cam replies shortly.

‘Maybe that's it!'

‘What, me being flogged?'

‘No, maybe he was her hit-man back when she headed the Mafia!'

‘Well, I have to say,' Cam puffs, finally getting up to pace and banishing the little blinking light, ‘that's the most logical explanation we've come up with so far.'

‘Fergus thought he might have been a previous lover,' I comment, checking out my pulse rate on the console. ‘You know, like a toy boy.'

‘Fergus is a twit.'

‘Well, it
is
possible.'

‘Nah. I'm sticking with the hit-man,' Cam pants. ‘It's more feasible.'

‘He didn't
look
like a hit-man,' I say slowly as I try to picture his face again.

‘He sure sounded like one!
And
he won't meet your eyes!'

‘So?' I speed up again to get back into rhythm. ‘He's just a tad shy.'

We continue cycling for a while in silence, both lost in thought. An elderly guy gets on the bike next to me and, after setting up his program, starts to cycle at a rate sure to guarantee a coronary within minutes. Then the bell pings on Cam's bike and, as the pedals slow down, she collapses against the handlebars. A few seconds later, my bike follows suit so I leap off and glance towards the exercise room.

‘Come on!' I wave my hand at Cam impatiently. ‘Quick, it's all empty. We'll have it to ourselves.'

‘And that's good, why?' Cam follows me, breathing heavily.

I head straight over to the LAT pulldown and adjust the
kneepads for a shorter person. Then I pull down the metal bar and gesture to Cam to sit down.

‘Here,' I say, passing her the bar. ‘Put one hand at either end like that and just pull it slowly towards your chest and back up again. Two lots of about fifteen should do it. Have a break between the sets. When you've finished that, have a go on the biceps curl over there, it's pretty self-explanatory.'

‘It'll need to be.'

I grin at her woebegone expression, and then grab a gym ball from the rack overhead. I put myself through a series of squats and stretches before heading over to the leg press and attacking that with gusto. I'm really glad Cam suggested this workout now because the more energy I expend, the better I feel. Besides, it seems that my curiosity about Rose and Richard will be satiated within a few days. And satiation always puts me in a good mood. I finish with the leg press and position myself at the bench press to lift some weights. A few minutes later, I sit up and wipe my face with a corner of my tank top. Then I look around to see what Cam is up to. But she's still sitting at the LAT pulldown, and seems to be in exactly the same position as she was when I left her fifteen minutes ago.

‘What
are
you doing?' I ask in amazement. ‘Haven't you even started yet?'

‘Of course I have!' she snaps back. ‘I'm just resting.'

‘How long have you been just resting?'

‘Not long!' Cam gets up with a groan, letting go of the metal handle too quickly so that it snaps back against the wall with a loud, echoing thud. I look at the wall with interest but it still seems intact, merely slightly dinted.

‘Are you all right there, love?' A six and a half foot Adonis materialises next to Cam and looks at her helpfully. ‘Need any assistance?'

Cam stares at him open-mouthed, her gaze travelling slowly from his chiselled facial features down past his black singlet and bulging muscles to his loose,
very
high-cut black shorts – before shooting back to his face again. She blushes.

‘Need any assistance?' he repeats slowly, obviously having decided she's not the full quid. ‘You're a new member, are you?'

‘Yes, yes I am.' Cam puts out her hand and, after looking at it with some surprise, Adonis laughs and shakes it agreeably.

‘In that case may I suggest you sign up for an assessment?' he says, reclaiming his hand with some difficulty. ‘It's free of charge and that way you'll be given a personalised routine to follow and get shown all the ropes at the same time.'

‘Sounds like a great idea.' I sidle up to the pair of them and, with my hand resting on the metal LAT handle, lean against the wall nonchalantly.

‘
Hello
there,' says Adonis, looking impressed. ‘Are
you
interested as well?'

‘Very interested.'

‘And have
you
ever been assessed?'

‘Not lately.'

‘Ex-cellen
te
!'

‘What do we have to do?' Cam interrupts rudely. ‘You know, for the assessment.'

‘Assessment?' Adonis looks back at her in confusion. ‘Oh, assessment! Yes, I'll just need to slot you in. I'll go grab my book.'

Cam and I watch Adonis walk out of the exercise room towards the front desk, and then turn and grin at each other.

‘Wow!'

‘Ex-cellen
te
!'

‘You're
such
a flirt, Terry,' Cam says, shaking her head. ‘Just can't help yourself, can you?'

‘Well, I needed a bit of an ego boost,' I reply with feeling, ‘especially after the week I've had.'

‘Huh! I'm going to the front desk to book myself in for one of those assessments. And don't bother coming along because you're not even a member here. Forgot to mention that, didn't you?'

I watch her stalk out of the room and, chuckling to myself, sit down at the LAT pulldown and, after adjusting it, perform two sets of lifts. When I've finished, I fetch my water bottle from a shelf nearby and take a huge drink.

‘Good idea.' Cam grabs her bottle and follows suit.

‘How are you feeling?' I ask solicitously. ‘Getting sore yet?'

‘A bit,' Cam replies, putting her bottle back. ‘Actually, a lot.'

‘How about we spend twenty minutes on the treadmill and then call it quits?'

‘Sounds ex-cellen
te
.'

We choose two treadmills side by side and a judicious distance from the speakers, which are currently blaring out a medley of rap music. At least I
think
it's rap music. I set up Cam's control pad, show her where to stand and demonstrate how to work the different settings for speed, time and climb rate. Then I press start – and she immediately shoots backwards, straight off the end of the treadmill and into a heap on the floor.

‘Hey!' I press pause and turn to look down at her. ‘You're supposed to walk
with
it! Did you think it was going to do all the work?'

‘Of course not!' Cam replies with annoyance as she picks herself up. ‘I just wasn't ready!'

‘Ready now?' I inquire sweetly.

‘And look!' She points to the instructions on the console. ‘It says stop if you feel faint or short of breath. I'm feeling both, so it's obviously unsafe for me to use it. Medically speaking.'

‘Get on.'

‘If I die, I'm going to come back and haunt you. I'll sit on your bed and stare at you wistfully every night.'

‘It'll be just like being married again.' I wait while Cam steps gingerly back onto the treadmill and then, staring straight ahead, grasps the front handles so tightly that her knuckles go white. She nods so I press start again and this time, when the machine starts rolling slowly, she walks stiffly with it. I watch her for a few minutes until she starts to relax, even removing one hand and waving it at me confidently.

‘Hey, look – one handed! This isn't so bad!'

‘It's not supposed to be,' I reply with a laugh as I set up my own control pad and get my machine going. I walk my way through the slow start and settle into a brisk walk of about six and a half kilometres an hour, before turning to check on Cam. She seems to have grasped the workings of the machine and is now not only walking swiftly, but has also released the handles entirely.