Musclebound by Liza Cody Page A

really want to get fit?’ he said. ‘For true?’
    ‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘but I got …’
    ‘Bollocks,’ he said, ‘you’re hung over. Don’t look at me like that – ‘s true.’
    ‘Fuck off.’
    ‘I didn’t come all this way for you to chat me down.’
    ‘Then you can bloody go away again,’ I said. ‘Why did you come?’
    ‘Well,’ he said, ‘I like a burly girly an’ they don’t come burlier than you. You got potential. ‘Sides, you said you’d pay.’
    ‘Now
that
bit’s for true,’ I said. ‘
That
bit I believe. You’re after my wedge.’
    ‘Which d’you think I am?’ Keif said. ‘Cheap or free?’
    ‘I don’t care what you are,’ I said. ‘I told Harsh I’d pay him. Not you.’
    ‘We been there already,’ he said.
    ‘Well, I know Harsh is worth a bundle,’ I said. ‘What do I know about you?’ Crafty, see – stone crafty.
    ‘Pedigree? OK. My dad was a boxer. When he retired he trained the youth section at the Ring O’Bells gym. You heard of that, encha?’
    ‘S’pose so,’ I said. Everyone’s heard of that – it’s where loads of London fighters hang out.
    ‘Well, he trained me too.’
    ‘For a boxer. Big deal.’
    ‘What d’you care what for? You want to be a wrestler?’
    ‘I
am
a fuckin’ wrestler. Who the fuck you think you’re talking to?’ I was really narked. ‘I’m the fucking
London Lassassin.’
    He ducked. ‘Too slow,’ he said. ‘Listen, stupidy. You want toget back in the ring you got to get back to basics. Basics is what it says – like what everyone has to do – from the ground up.’
    ‘You can take your basics and shove ‘em up your base,’ I said, ‘from the ground up.’ He backed off. ‘Who the fuck you think you calling “stupidy”? I ain’t stupid.’
    I could of mashed him against the door – I was that roiled up. But I kept remembering the rent man – I took a shot and he decked me. S’pose I took another shot at Keif and instead of dodging he decked me? S’pose that’s what happened? I could of mashed him. I
should
of mashed him. But my brain got in the way.
    ‘I got a headache,’ I said.
    ‘What?’ he said. ‘I can’t hear if you don’t shout.’
    ‘Deaf as well as dumb,’ I said. And then someone else knocked on my door. Jeez, what a day.
    Keif was backed up against the door. I was going to tell him not to open it, but he opened it before I could get the words out. And a good job he did, ‘cos there in her long slick raincoat was Simone again. She came back. She came back. She came back.
    She said, ‘I came to see if you’d like a drink. I didn’t know you had company.’
    ‘He ain’t company,’ I said. ‘He’s my personal trainer. Like I said. Remember? You din’t believe me. But here he is.’
    ‘We was just going out for a run,’ Keif said. Can you believe the nerve of the man?
    ‘Tomorrow,’ I said.
    ‘I just wanted to say I’m sorry for walking off last night,’ Simone said. ‘I thought we could have a drink and talk.’
    ‘Yeah,’ I said. She was back and I was thirsty.
    ‘Run first,’ said Keif.
    ‘Cock off,’ I said.
    ‘’Cos if you don’t I’m quitting,’ Keif said. ‘I mean, it’s been a long, interesting association an’ all that, but I got me limits – like I only work with professionals.’
    ‘Bog-dollops!’ I said.
    ‘Oh please don’t start shouting again, Eva,’ Simone said. ‘I’ll wait till you get back.’
    ‘I’m gonna marmelise you,’ I said to Keif.
    ‘You gotta catch me first,’ he said, and went jogging out my door and across the yard.
    ‘Go on,’ said Simone. So I went. Oh, serious fuck.

Chapter 8
    Thud-thud-thud, pound-pound-pound went my feet. And hey-diddle-diddle went my heart. I thought it was going to jump out through my ribs and lie like a dying fish flopping around under my trainers. I felt sick.
    ‘Who’s the slusher?’ Keif said.
    ‘Who … you … calling … a slusher?’ I said. I could hardly speak I was so angry.