course, daytimes don't suit everyone..."
I could have just said I was working...but the lie wouldn't come. Not that it was a lie—I work from home, so in theory, I might have been working...but it was more likely that I'd be watching soap operas on iPlayer.
"No, no, tomorrow afternoon is fine."
Am I mad? Tomorrow afternoon is not fine at all! I have three deadlines to meet before Friday.
"Great. Our coaches usually like to meet with you in your home, so if you want to call a friend or family member to be with you for your first appointment—"
"Wait! You said...in my home?"
"That's right. It's much easier for them to get a picture of your needs and challenges if they see you in your home setting."
I looked around at my needs and challenges. The room was busting at the seams with them. This organiser man was going to back out of the house screaming. And I couldn't possibly get everything tidy by tomorrow afternoon.
11
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
"I'm not sure...I don't think...could we not meet at your office?"
"Dexter is very clear on the way he likes to operate. He will want to meet with you in your home. As I said before, he's quite happy for you to have a friend or neighbour with you..."
"Oh. I don't know. Oh. Let me think about this..." I thought I might hyperventilate. Nobody ever came into my flat. It wasn't as if it was that bad—it just didn't project the image I wanted people to have of me. I wanted them to see Lara, the charming, slightly distrait, friendly, but busy, city girl. I didn't want them to see a mess. I wasn't a mess! I really...okay. I was.
"Dexter will be booked up to the end of the month..."
"Oh. okay." I was a mess. I knew it, deep down. I needed to be cleaned up. Put away. Tied with a neat ribbon. "You'll want my address then."
It was only later, in bed, that the enormity of what I'd signed up for hit me. I had agreed to pay a man to tell me what to do. Paying to be scolded and pushed around by some man! Was I mad? I didn't know. But I was certainly just a little bit excited...
* * * *
With five minutes to go until zero hour, I decided that I'd done what I could. The unironed clothes were in a basket under the bed. The bills and tickets and whatnot were in a perilous stack on one corner of the kitchen table. All pizza boxes, empty wine bottles and ice cream tubs had been 12
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
consigned to the recycling. I'd found a duster under the sink and had trailed it across a few surfaces, marvelling at the cloud of dust particles I'd disturbed in the process. Dust is so interesting to watch, isn't it?
Dishes washed, clutter hidden. Somehow everything still looked wrong, and I wondered if Dexter would eventually come to the same conclusion I had—that my problem was congenital and, as such, untreatable. List making simply wasn't in my DNA.
The buzzer jolted me out of reverie. It was two o'clock exactly —had he stood by the door waiting for the second hand to hit the twelve?
"Hello," I spoke cautiously into the intercom.
"Miss Fisher? Dexter from 'New-U' here."
"I'll buzz you in."
Was that a normal voice? It didn't seem unusual in any way. Not too high, not too deep, no accent, no speech impediment. Why was I so nervous? I tried to shake the foreboding out of me and remember that I was paying for a service! That put me in the driver's seat, didn't it? If he didn't suit me, I could fire him.
All the same, my skin prickled at the sound of his knock, and I stood a little farther back than I normally would when I opened the door and let him in.
"Hello, hello," I chirped, talking too fast and too much, as I always did when I was anxious. "Sorry about the state of the place, do take a seat if you can find one, can I get you a drink, tea, coffee, something colder, or I've got hot chocolate, 13
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
or even wine, though I don't suppose you drink on duty, do you, like policemen, I suppose..."
"No,
I could have just said I was working...but the lie wouldn't come. Not that it was a lie—I work from home, so in theory, I might have been working...but it was more likely that I'd be watching soap operas on iPlayer.
"No, no, tomorrow afternoon is fine."
Am I mad? Tomorrow afternoon is not fine at all! I have three deadlines to meet before Friday.
"Great. Our coaches usually like to meet with you in your home, so if you want to call a friend or family member to be with you for your first appointment—"
"Wait! You said...in my home?"
"That's right. It's much easier for them to get a picture of your needs and challenges if they see you in your home setting."
I looked around at my needs and challenges. The room was busting at the seams with them. This organiser man was going to back out of the house screaming. And I couldn't possibly get everything tidy by tomorrow afternoon.
11
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
"I'm not sure...I don't think...could we not meet at your office?"
"Dexter is very clear on the way he likes to operate. He will want to meet with you in your home. As I said before, he's quite happy for you to have a friend or neighbour with you..."
"Oh. I don't know. Oh. Let me think about this..." I thought I might hyperventilate. Nobody ever came into my flat. It wasn't as if it was that bad—it just didn't project the image I wanted people to have of me. I wanted them to see Lara, the charming, slightly distrait, friendly, but busy, city girl. I didn't want them to see a mess. I wasn't a mess! I really...okay. I was.
"Dexter will be booked up to the end of the month..."
"Oh. okay." I was a mess. I knew it, deep down. I needed to be cleaned up. Put away. Tied with a neat ribbon. "You'll want my address then."
It was only later, in bed, that the enormity of what I'd signed up for hit me. I had agreed to pay a man to tell me what to do. Paying to be scolded and pushed around by some man! Was I mad? I didn't know. But I was certainly just a little bit excited...
* * * *
With five minutes to go until zero hour, I decided that I'd done what I could. The unironed clothes were in a basket under the bed. The bills and tickets and whatnot were in a perilous stack on one corner of the kitchen table. All pizza boxes, empty wine bottles and ice cream tubs had been 12
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
consigned to the recycling. I'd found a duster under the sink and had trailed it across a few surfaces, marvelling at the cloud of dust particles I'd disturbed in the process. Dust is so interesting to watch, isn't it?
Dishes washed, clutter hidden. Somehow everything still looked wrong, and I wondered if Dexter would eventually come to the same conclusion I had—that my problem was congenital and, as such, untreatable. List making simply wasn't in my DNA.
The buzzer jolted me out of reverie. It was two o'clock exactly —had he stood by the door waiting for the second hand to hit the twelve?
"Hello," I spoke cautiously into the intercom.
"Miss Fisher? Dexter from 'New-U' here."
"I'll buzz you in."
Was that a normal voice? It didn't seem unusual in any way. Not too high, not too deep, no accent, no speech impediment. Why was I so nervous? I tried to shake the foreboding out of me and remember that I was paying for a service! That put me in the driver's seat, didn't it? If he didn't suit me, I could fire him.
All the same, my skin prickled at the sound of his knock, and I stood a little farther back than I normally would when I opened the door and let him in.
"Hello, hello," I chirped, talking too fast and too much, as I always did when I was anxious. "Sorry about the state of the place, do take a seat if you can find one, can I get you a drink, tea, coffee, something colder, or I've got hot chocolate, 13
A Very Personal Trainer
by Justine Elyot
or even wine, though I don't suppose you drink on duty, do you, like policemen, I suppose..."
"No,
Similar Books
