looks me up and down. ‘You don’t need to lose any weight. I like you cuddly.’
‘Yes he does,’ smirks Dan. ‘He’s got bigger breasts than you have.’
Wendy reddens slightly, then picks up Dan’s wine glass. ‘Can I get you another drink?’
He looks confused. ‘But I haven’t finished this one yet.’
‘Yes you have,’ she replies, emptying it in his lap.
Dan jumps up, grabs a bar towel, and starts to mop his crotch, much to the amusement of the rest of the bar.
‘What on earth did you do that for?’
‘Why do you think?’ says Wendy, glaring at him. ‘You have a real gift, you know.’
‘Not for you I don’t, sweetheart,’ replies Dan.
As he disappears into the gents to dry his trousers under the hand dryer, I follow Wendy back to the bar.
‘So why this new healthy regime?’ she asks.
‘Dan’s idea. He seems to think I’ve got a chance of winning Jane back.’
Wendy looks a little surprised. ‘Really? Why? I mean, what did she say in her note?’
I recount Jane’s letter, surprising myself that I seem to know it off by heart.
‘What do you think?’ I ask, hopefully.
Wendy smiles sympathetically at me. ‘I think if you love her, it’s got to be worth a try. Anyway, what can I get you? The usual?’
Sadly, it’s time for me to try the unusual. I look back over to our table, where Dan, back from the gents, is typing away again.
‘Another glass of wine for Bill Gates over there, and I’ll have…What do you have that isn’t beer?’
Wendy scratches her head. ‘Well, there’s wine, obviously, spirits, the usual array of soft drinks…Or how about a coffee?’ She points to a gleaming contraption behind the bar. ‘We’ve just got this brand new machine.’
‘It doesn’t have alcohol in it?’
‘Not the way I make it.’ Wendy walks over and presses a button, causing the front to light up. ‘What sort would you like?’
I gaze at the impressive piece of machinery. ‘What kind do you have?’
Wendy consults the laminated menu card. ‘Espresso, latte, cappuccino, mochaccino, frappuccino, latteccino…’ She looks up mischievously. ‘Al Pacino…’
‘Doesn’t it just do normal coffee?’
Wendy stares at the array of buttons in puzzlement. ‘Probably. But I couldn’t guarantee it.’
‘Okay. Forget it. I’ll just have a glass of water, please.’
Wendy switches the machine off, not a little relieved. ‘Ice? Slice of lemon?’
‘Oh, go on then. Push the boat out.’
When I carry the drinks back to our table, Dan looks approvingly at my choice of beverage.
‘Cheers,’ he says, taking a sip of his wine. ‘So. The diet is one thing. How about the exercise part?’
I light up a cigarette and inhale deeply. ‘Exercise?’
Dan does a bad Michael Caine impression. ‘“You’re a big man, but you’re out of shape.” Yes, exercise.’
‘But I don’t know the first thing about exercising.’
‘Well, I’ll help you.’
‘You?’
‘Why not?’
Unfortunately, I can’t think of a reason quickly enough. ‘What do you know about training someone?’
‘I keep myself in pretty good shape, don’t I?’ says Dan, tensing a bicep.
Oh no. I can just imagine where Dan’s going with this. He’s probably already thinking of making his own workout video.
‘S’pose.’
‘So let’s start tomorrow. I run most mornings. Why not come with me?’
I hurriedly try and think of an excuse, as the idea of trailing along the seafront behind Dan hardly appeals.
‘Er, I’ve got to work,’ I lie.
‘Well, we’ll go before work then. That is, unless you’d rather stay in bed with…Oh no, she left you, didn’t she. Because you got too fat.’
‘All right. No need to rub it in. Tomorrow morning it is.’
Dan grins at me. ‘Shall we say eight o’clock?’
‘Fine.’
‘Good. I expect you to be ready to go, in your sports gear.’
‘Right.’
‘And you’ll have to do something about the smoking as well.’
I take a long drag and stub my
‘Yes he does,’ smirks Dan. ‘He’s got bigger breasts than you have.’
Wendy reddens slightly, then picks up Dan’s wine glass. ‘Can I get you another drink?’
He looks confused. ‘But I haven’t finished this one yet.’
‘Yes you have,’ she replies, emptying it in his lap.
Dan jumps up, grabs a bar towel, and starts to mop his crotch, much to the amusement of the rest of the bar.
‘What on earth did you do that for?’
‘Why do you think?’ says Wendy, glaring at him. ‘You have a real gift, you know.’
‘Not for you I don’t, sweetheart,’ replies Dan.
As he disappears into the gents to dry his trousers under the hand dryer, I follow Wendy back to the bar.
‘So why this new healthy regime?’ she asks.
‘Dan’s idea. He seems to think I’ve got a chance of winning Jane back.’
Wendy looks a little surprised. ‘Really? Why? I mean, what did she say in her note?’
I recount Jane’s letter, surprising myself that I seem to know it off by heart.
‘What do you think?’ I ask, hopefully.
Wendy smiles sympathetically at me. ‘I think if you love her, it’s got to be worth a try. Anyway, what can I get you? The usual?’
Sadly, it’s time for me to try the unusual. I look back over to our table, where Dan, back from the gents, is typing away again.
‘Another glass of wine for Bill Gates over there, and I’ll have…What do you have that isn’t beer?’
Wendy scratches her head. ‘Well, there’s wine, obviously, spirits, the usual array of soft drinks…Or how about a coffee?’ She points to a gleaming contraption behind the bar. ‘We’ve just got this brand new machine.’
‘It doesn’t have alcohol in it?’
‘Not the way I make it.’ Wendy walks over and presses a button, causing the front to light up. ‘What sort would you like?’
I gaze at the impressive piece of machinery. ‘What kind do you have?’
Wendy consults the laminated menu card. ‘Espresso, latte, cappuccino, mochaccino, frappuccino, latteccino…’ She looks up mischievously. ‘Al Pacino…’
‘Doesn’t it just do normal coffee?’
Wendy stares at the array of buttons in puzzlement. ‘Probably. But I couldn’t guarantee it.’
‘Okay. Forget it. I’ll just have a glass of water, please.’
Wendy switches the machine off, not a little relieved. ‘Ice? Slice of lemon?’
‘Oh, go on then. Push the boat out.’
When I carry the drinks back to our table, Dan looks approvingly at my choice of beverage.
‘Cheers,’ he says, taking a sip of his wine. ‘So. The diet is one thing. How about the exercise part?’
I light up a cigarette and inhale deeply. ‘Exercise?’
Dan does a bad Michael Caine impression. ‘“You’re a big man, but you’re out of shape.” Yes, exercise.’
‘But I don’t know the first thing about exercising.’
‘Well, I’ll help you.’
‘You?’
‘Why not?’
Unfortunately, I can’t think of a reason quickly enough. ‘What do you know about training someone?’
‘I keep myself in pretty good shape, don’t I?’ says Dan, tensing a bicep.
Oh no. I can just imagine where Dan’s going with this. He’s probably already thinking of making his own workout video.
‘S’pose.’
‘So let’s start tomorrow. I run most mornings. Why not come with me?’
I hurriedly try and think of an excuse, as the idea of trailing along the seafront behind Dan hardly appeals.
‘Er, I’ve got to work,’ I lie.
‘Well, we’ll go before work then. That is, unless you’d rather stay in bed with…Oh no, she left you, didn’t she. Because you got too fat.’
‘All right. No need to rub it in. Tomorrow morning it is.’
Dan grins at me. ‘Shall we say eight o’clock?’
‘Fine.’
‘Good. I expect you to be ready to go, in your sports gear.’
‘Right.’
‘And you’ll have to do something about the smoking as well.’
I take a long drag and stub my
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