genuinely interested in her or not. He
seemed to have a rapport with all the women in the block no matter
what age. Men too, so maybe it was just wishful thinking on her
part.
“If you’re going into a toy-boy relationship,
just remember that maturity wise he is 10 years younger than his
actual years.”
“What do you mean, Sandy?”
“He may be 29 but when it comes to maturity
he is only 19. All men are like that, trust me.”
“You’ve got a point. They never really grow
up, do they?”
Sandy’s acrimonious split with her partner
had turned into hostility to men generally. Nat, she insisted, was
a no-go area.
“He’s too pretty, buff and flirty, Jo. Trust
me, steer clear of toy-boy relationships.”
Sandy was still a good-looking woman at 42.
Long legs and trim waist beneath a bundle of red hair that framed a
button nose and full crimson lips, always got her noticed. Male
attention was never a problem, but so badly hurt was she from the
split with Louis’ father that all advances from men were swiftly
rebuked.
One over-persistent admirer in a bar in
Moorgate left hobbling after feisty Sandy kneed him in a
particularly delicate spot.
As Joanna continued to walk everywhere, the
weight steadily dropping off, an impromptu fan club built up. The
road sweeper always had a cheery word, the postman accused her of
training to take his job and construction workers invited her to
join in their tea breaks.
The following year Joanna was two months away
from her fortieth birthday and down to 11 stones. Determined to be
a perfect 10 in a size 10 and weighing 10 stones by her birthday in
June, she made the bold step of asking Nat if they could train
together for a while.
By now he was showing more than a passing
interest, but Joanna, mindful of Sandy’s advice, dismissed the
advances
“I’m bursting to settle down and have kids,
Sandy. Biological clock is ticking away. No Friends With Benefits
situation here. Anyway, Nat’s still a horny kid. I heard he’s been
seeing a Polish girl and a Virgin Air stewardess in our
block.”
“Bet she’s not a virgin anymore! Don’t even
think about giving him a chance Jo. A dog like all the others.”
Sandy’s red locks seemed to glow like a
beacon when she went into a man-hate rant. Joanna always found a
way of making her click out of it.
“I think you’re going barking mad Sandy.”
Joanna heeded Sandy’s warnings, resolutely
resisting Nat’s charm.
She felt great. All the months of power
walking and curbing her wayward eating habits were paying off.
She was just over 10 stones after regular
workouts with Nat who was still keen for a romance. Tempted as she
was, Nat would never tick all her boxes. Apart from the age factor,
he really was immature and after initial pleasantries had little
meaningful to say. Joanna wanted someone who could hold a
conversation that did not involve reality TV contestants, sport and
PlayStation.
He was also extremely vain, spending more
time and money on grooming, waxing and preening than Joanna and
Sandy put together.
“Nat is the Gok Wan of security men,” Sandy
joked. “If he was presenting ‘How to Look Good Naked’ he wouldn’t
have anyone in the studio, just himself.”
He also seemed content with being a muscled
security man for the rest of his life, possibly living well off his
better-paid partner.
Sandy was right, he’s totally unsuitable.
Oozing with confidence from the weight loss,
hair freshly styled and wardrobe bulging with the latest designer
items, Joanna now had more options. Men at work asked her out. Even
the married ones.
Construction site workers whistled and made
sexist remarks – which she treated with disdain but secretly loved.
Approaches for dates became an almost daily occurrence. But no one
fitted the bill. The few she went out with were not quite right.
Internet matching failed too.
As all her former school mates were turning
40 at the same time, Joanna reasoned that someone would have a
seemed to have a rapport with all the women in the block no matter
what age. Men too, so maybe it was just wishful thinking on her
part.
“If you’re going into a toy-boy relationship,
just remember that maturity wise he is 10 years younger than his
actual years.”
“What do you mean, Sandy?”
“He may be 29 but when it comes to maturity
he is only 19. All men are like that, trust me.”
“You’ve got a point. They never really grow
up, do they?”
Sandy’s acrimonious split with her partner
had turned into hostility to men generally. Nat, she insisted, was
a no-go area.
“He’s too pretty, buff and flirty, Jo. Trust
me, steer clear of toy-boy relationships.”
Sandy was still a good-looking woman at 42.
Long legs and trim waist beneath a bundle of red hair that framed a
button nose and full crimson lips, always got her noticed. Male
attention was never a problem, but so badly hurt was she from the
split with Louis’ father that all advances from men were swiftly
rebuked.
One over-persistent admirer in a bar in
Moorgate left hobbling after feisty Sandy kneed him in a
particularly delicate spot.
As Joanna continued to walk everywhere, the
weight steadily dropping off, an impromptu fan club built up. The
road sweeper always had a cheery word, the postman accused her of
training to take his job and construction workers invited her to
join in their tea breaks.
The following year Joanna was two months away
from her fortieth birthday and down to 11 stones. Determined to be
a perfect 10 in a size 10 and weighing 10 stones by her birthday in
June, she made the bold step of asking Nat if they could train
together for a while.
By now he was showing more than a passing
interest, but Joanna, mindful of Sandy’s advice, dismissed the
advances
“I’m bursting to settle down and have kids,
Sandy. Biological clock is ticking away. No Friends With Benefits
situation here. Anyway, Nat’s still a horny kid. I heard he’s been
seeing a Polish girl and a Virgin Air stewardess in our
block.”
“Bet she’s not a virgin anymore! Don’t even
think about giving him a chance Jo. A dog like all the others.”
Sandy’s red locks seemed to glow like a
beacon when she went into a man-hate rant. Joanna always found a
way of making her click out of it.
“I think you’re going barking mad Sandy.”
Joanna heeded Sandy’s warnings, resolutely
resisting Nat’s charm.
She felt great. All the months of power
walking and curbing her wayward eating habits were paying off.
She was just over 10 stones after regular
workouts with Nat who was still keen for a romance. Tempted as she
was, Nat would never tick all her boxes. Apart from the age factor,
he really was immature and after initial pleasantries had little
meaningful to say. Joanna wanted someone who could hold a
conversation that did not involve reality TV contestants, sport and
PlayStation.
He was also extremely vain, spending more
time and money on grooming, waxing and preening than Joanna and
Sandy put together.
“Nat is the Gok Wan of security men,” Sandy
joked. “If he was presenting ‘How to Look Good Naked’ he wouldn’t
have anyone in the studio, just himself.”
He also seemed content with being a muscled
security man for the rest of his life, possibly living well off his
better-paid partner.
Sandy was right, he’s totally unsuitable.
Oozing with confidence from the weight loss,
hair freshly styled and wardrobe bulging with the latest designer
items, Joanna now had more options. Men at work asked her out. Even
the married ones.
Construction site workers whistled and made
sexist remarks – which she treated with disdain but secretly loved.
Approaches for dates became an almost daily occurrence. But no one
fitted the bill. The few she went out with were not quite right.
Internet matching failed too.
As all her former school mates were turning
40 at the same time, Joanna reasoned that someone would have a
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