Million Love Songs by Carole Matthews

Author:Carole Matthews [MATTHEWS, CAROLE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780751560312
Publisher: Little, Brown Book Group
Published: 2018-01-04T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Forty-Four

So, it was all over with Joe before it had even begun. Dust yourself off, Ruby Brown, paint on a smile, move right along, nothing to see here. I don’t go back to my diving lessons and I don’t miss them. I only miss my instructor and you can gather here that I’m not talking about Bob.

Two weeks have gone by and my life is a wilderness filled only with disappointment and shifts at the Butcher’s Arms. Eat, sleep, work. That’s all I do. Dramatic, I know, but I do feel down and that’s not really like me. Even cardboard cut-out Gary is failing to cheer me up. I know that he’s all Charlie needs to be happy, but I am finding him wanting in the boyfriend and companion stakes.

‘What do you think, Gary?’ I ask him.

No answer. Then I realise that I’m talking out loud to a cardboard cut-out and wonder what has become of my life.

So I decide to take a bit of action. I have a few hours before work, so I’m going to get out in the world and give it all I’ve got. Exercise is the way forward! I can expend all my excess energy – not that I have any of it – and while away a pleasant few hours to boot.

I swipe my boldest red lipstick on as I pout at the mirror. Then I remember that I’ve just decided to go running and think about swiping it off again. I don’t want to be one of those women running round the lake in full war paint. Actually, I don’t want to be one of those women running full stop. I don’t like the feeling of everything jiggling around. Yoga sounds more appealing, as you get to sit down a lot. But all my money has been blown on stupid scuba-diving lessons which means I can’t afford classes and running is free. So running it is. Where I live I can literally run out of my door and be right on the path around the lake. That has to be some kind of incentive. Plus exercise releases endorphins and I am desperately in need of a few of those.

So here I am in my ratty old jogging bottoms – I’m sure they weren’t this tight when I last wore them – and a vest top that’s seen better days. But I’m only going to get all hot and sweaty so who cares what I look like. I scrape my hair into a scrunchie and am all good to go. When I come back I’ll have to wash my hair and put on my slap ready for work. It would be nice if all the walking I do while waiting tables kept on top of my calorie consumption, but it doesn’t. So needs must. I can’t slide into middle age without at least trying to make a valiant effort. Basically, I’m running out of time to get this relationship shit together. No pressure at all.

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