Station To Station

Station to Station
‘Usual format ladies and gentlemen. A minute at each station, just do what you can.’ And so began another exercise class.
This was Lucy’s third class and she was beginning to get the hang of it. It was tough and she had never been a great lover of exercise. She wasn’t overly keen on the sweating and the effort involved. Come to think of it, she wasn’t especially pleased about how much her legs ached the next day. But she was here for a clear purpose and she was determined to do what she had come for.
It was her husband who had got her into it, so she supposed she had him to thank. George was best described as an intermittent gym goer. He had a very expensive membership, but what with work and his frequent trips away he wasn’t getting much use out of it. It made sense when he said he was going to try to get to a regular Wednesday class. ‘It will provide focus’, he said, ’make sure I do it all properly, push me a bit.’ So off he went, kit bag in hand, planning to shower afterwards. ‘You don’t want me back all smelly and sweaty’. It became her evening when she could catch up with chores, her hobbies and a few phone calls.
George’s evenings became later, ‘we went for a drink afterwards, you know that pub just across the road from the gym. Nearly everyone from the class goes.’ So Lucy sewed a bit, knitted a bit and fiddled around on facebook. The rubbish that some of them write! Her friend Sally seemed to think that everyone wanted to know all of her comings and goings and where she was. Lucy vaguely glanced and saw her gym visits, same gym as George so it happened and passed on to other posts. Overtime she saw less of the gym sessions and guessed it was another of Sally’s ‘five minute wonders’, she had had so many passions in the ten or so years Lucy and George had known her and her dull husband.
George came back late that evening, dropping his kit bag in the utility room, ‘don’t worry with that love, I’ll sort it out. The wet towel, the smelly kit – oh yes, he can sort that out.
‘Want anything to eat?’ she offered, hoping the answer was no, she really couldn’t be bothered with the dishing up, heating, serving and clearing. As of late, he just told that he was fine and didn’t need anything, ‘had a bite at that pub’.
It was around this time that she decided to go along to the exercise class and surprise George. George went straight from work, so she changed into some ancient gym kit at home and drove along.
At first , she thought she was in the wrong class, there was no one there that she knew but she could see why George liked it but where was he? Even the late train would get him here by now. The music started and the instructor started yelling at them. Looking sheepishly round she worked hard to keep in time and get her muscles working properly.
After an hour of going from station to station and doing different exercise at each stopping point she was hot and sweaty but high and happy. She wasn’t invited to the pub, but as far as she could see, there was no pub trip anyway. That’s how it started really, the detective work, the wondering, the casual approach.
Three weeks in and George hadn’t shown up, but she was getting more toned and much stronger. She stopped knitting, ate less and moved a whole heap more. Her clothes seemed looser and she slept loads better. She knew Sally would enjoy it if she started up again, she rang her. Lucy started by telling her how much better she felt, running on and on about her great class and all the benefits, ‘why don’t you come’ she asked. But before she could even say which day it was on Sally swiftly told her that she already went to a class on Wednesday and she was really enjoying it. Its at the King Centre, we go for a drink after, really great – I’m sorted thanks, but thanks for offering. Must go Lu, rushing off as usual ‘ and the call finished .
She carried on going to the class for a couple of weeks , looking over the instructor’s shoulder as he marked her in. George,3 ticks and then blanks, Sally,3 ticks and then blanks. ‘No class next week, its half term ‘he bawled at them.
The next morning Lucy went out for her ‘nearly usual’ run. She had realised that exercise wasn’t the enemy. She considered her next steps as she pounded.
The next Wednesday she sat patiently waiting for the non existing class to start. Once she was sure that the timing was right she rang Sally’s house. Sally’s husband, so polite, so kind, told her that Sally wasn’t in, she was in a gym class. ‘Sorry Harry, she’s not at class, nor has she been for weeks. Oh, she’s enrolled there, she just doesn’t go.’ She gave him a few minutes to let the information sink in. ‘My husband hasn’t been there lately either’. I’m coming round, stay where you are.
He opened the door looking ashen as he asked her what she meant, barely able to get his words out. ‘Whatever it is, he had become complacent and I checked his card statement. Here’s a picture of the featured hotel. ‘Get in my car’, she commanded. Lucy knew she was in the right place when she pulled in to park between George and Sally’s car. ‘You phone Sally, I’ll phone George, leave a message just letting them know that class isn’t on this week and stand back. All we have to do is wait for them to come out of their sordid little room. They have got an awful lot of explaining to do. There’s no way they have been hopping from station to station.