If I Fall Page 3

  JJ grinned. ‘Well done. But we’re doing around thirty of these, so save your breath, all right?’

  ‘Thirty?’ His client squeaked the word out and started puffing.

  JJ watched her, checking her form. He loved his job! He felt in control, which was always great, but he also enjoyed banter with his clients. Both male and female. This one was a female. And she was extraordinarily pretty. Jenny. JJ thought her name was Jenny.

  ‘So if we’re working the butt, we’re going to be doing a squat sequence next,’ JJ said, joining in with the curtsy lunges. ‘Sumo, plié, body weight, pistol, braced, eagle, jump… and finally with weights.’

  She pulled a face. ‘Sounds like fun. Not!’

  JJ laughed. ‘It will be fun, trust me. And I’m right here, doing them all with you. Jenny,’ he added, hoping for the best.

  ‘But you’re much fitter than me,’ Jenny panted.

  Yes! He’d got her name right. ‘Take a break,’ JJ advised. ‘Have some water. You are fit,’ he added as Jenny swigged gratefully from her sports bottle. ‘You’re pretty strong.’

  ‘I guess…’ Jenny smiled at him. ‘If I am, it’s all down to you. Well. You and Greg, anyway.’

  JJ shook his head. ‘No way. I can guide you – Greg can guide you, but you do the actual work. OK, that’s enough rest. We’re doing squats. Watch me.’ He demonstrated a whole sequence of different squats while Jenny watched, open-mouthed.

  ‘Who knew there were so many different types,’ she said admiringly. ‘I’m dreading them already.’

  ‘You can do this,’ JJ told her with a grin. ‘You’re hardcore.’

  Jenny started copying him, wincing as she completed the reps. ‘God. What do you do for fun?’

  ‘This!’ JJ laughed. ‘And I sometimes go for a few drinks after this. But only if I’ve done a whole sequence of these and I deserve it.’

  ‘Can we go for drinks if I manage to do the whole sequence?’ Jenny asked coyly, starting to catch her breath again.

  ‘Deal.’ JJ gave her an easy smile. She was a very pretty girl. And she wasn’t his client. And he was a single man. With the best job in the world.

  * * *

  JJ woke up in a cold sweat and sat bolt upright in bed. Where the hell was he? He clutched the duvet, panting. It was OK. He was at home. He was home. Safe. JJ lay back down again. Jesus. He hadn’t had one of those nightmares for years. His heart was racing like crazy and he felt shivery all over from the ice-cold terror that had been charging round his system.

  JJ took a deep breath and worked hard to push the hideous images from his head. Except that they weren’t just “images”, they were actually memories. He felt sick but he wasn’t sure if it was the nightmare or something else. He turned his head. He wasn’t alone. A brunette stirred slightly, then lay still again. JJ sighed and rubbed his eyes. Sunshine was beginning to filter through a crack in his grey curtains, leaving a bright shimmer of light across his carpet.

  OK. JJ took stock. He was at home. He was hungover. He had had one of the worst nightmares about stuff from his past and there was a woman in the bed next to him.

  JJ stretched and collected his thoughts. It was 7.06, which felt too early for the headache he had. So. He’d been working late at the gym on a Friday night. Three of his regular clients had unusually wanted the post-commute time slots and he had completed them back to back. Bloody knackering as they had all wanted HIIT sessions with plenty of stamina-building and cardio but two of them were training for Tough Mudders and the other one was a gym fanatic who wanted to climb Everest or some such thing. He had then managed to squeeze in his mate Greg’s client, as Greg was away on holiday.

  Aaah, that was it. He looked over at the girl. They had hit it off and gone out for drinks afterwards. All of his good intentions to avoid alcohol that week had gone out of the window and he had ended up drinking red wine (which he hated) by the bottle and inviting the girl back to his because her friend had messaged to say she couldn’t make it after all.

  What was her name? Jenny, was it? Joanne, maybe? JJ wasn’t impressed with himself that he couldn’t think of the girl’s name, but it had all become rather hazy after the second bottle.

  ‘Morning.’ The girl rolled over and smiled at him.

  JJ smiled back. Yes, she was pretty. Almost as pretty this morning as he remembered from last night. Outside the gym, at any rate. JJ really couldn’t remember much after that.

  ‘Good night last night,’ the girl commented sleepily.

  ‘Wasn’t it?’ JJ said agreeably. He wasn’t sure he could recall the finer details, but if she thought it was a good night, he was happy with that.

  ‘Did I give you my number last night?’ the girl asked, sitting up. She blushed and pulled the duvet around herself.

  JJ reached for his phone. ‘Er… I’m not sure.’

  ‘I think I put it in as Jenny J. We laughed about it.’ Jenny looked around for her underwear. ‘You know… You’re JJ and I’m… J.J.’

  ‘That’s right.’ JJ smiled. They had laughed about that. He found her number in his phone. ‘Yes, here it is.’ He put his phone down and pulled a clean, white t-shirt out of his bedside drawer. ‘There you go. Cover your modesty and all that. If you want to find your clothes. I do believe your bra is hanging from my chair over there.’

  Jenny giggled. ‘Oh God. How embarrassing.’ She pulled the t-shirt over her head and wriggled into it. ‘So you’re a personal trainer?’

  ‘I am.’ JJ swung his feet out of the bed and pulled on a clean pair of boxers. ‘I have a few clients this morning, actually.’

  ‘On a Saturday?’ Jenny sounded casually sceptical.

  JJ stood up and stretched, feeling a dull ache in his head. ‘Yep. Trust me. When people are dedicated, the fact that it’s the weekend is neither here nor there.’ He checked his watch. ‘We have time for some breakfast, though? Something healthy, of course.’

  Jenny brightened. ‘That sounds good.’

  JJ smiled. ‘Great.’ He headed to the bathroom, partly to give her some privacy to find her clothes and partly to give himself some space. He opened his bathroom cabinet, pausing for a second to admire the ordered contents. He cleaned his teeth methodically for a full two minutes and then took a quick shower.

  ‘Wow, that was quick,’ Jenny said. She was dressed in the jeans she’d been wearing the night before, but still had JJ’s t-shirt on.

  JJ noted this, but didn’t make reference to it. It happened from time to time. And actually, she looked pretty good with the white t-shirt tucked in at the front and slouchy at the back. He opened his wardrobe and scanned it.

  ‘Gosh. You’re organised.’

  He turned to find Jenny standing behind him. ‘Yes. I like what I like, I guess.’ He surveyed the contents of his wardrobe. It was one of those high-tech wardrobes with carefully-designed sections and dividers and drawers. His clothes were colour-coded in blocks – he liked the way the colours went from left to right and light to dark. White t-shirts moving into grey, moving to navy and then to black. It was visually pleasing and it soothed him.

  ‘Scrambled eggs with some smoked salmon?’ he said over his shoulder ten minutes later.

  ‘Amazing.’

  Jenny was beaming. And looking exceptionally pretty considering how much she’d had to drink. And considering how much of her make-up was smeared all over JJ’s usually pristine, dove-grey pillowcases. JJ shuddered. He felt a strong urge to rip the pillowcases off and hurl them into the laundry bin. It was all he could do not to do just that and rapidly replace them with some fresh, identical ones, even if Jenny thought he was insane.

  ‘Feel free to have a shower,’ he said, instead. He took a breath. ‘Use anything you like.’

  ‘Thanks!’

  Jenny bounced off into the bathroom and JJ went into the kitchen to fix breakfast. He didn’t really want her to use all his stuff, but he realised he would sound ungentlemanly if he said, ‘Whatever you do, Jenny, please do NOT touch my stuf
f. Because it sends me over the edge and you’ll leave it all messy and disgusting and it’s my stuff and I can’t bear anyone being around it. Thanks!’

  JJ turned the TV on and found a music channel then set about expertly cooking some eggs. There were only a few things JJ could cook well and eggs were one of them. Feeling out of his comfort zone wasn’t something he enjoyed. He took the eggs off the heat when they were still runny and seasoned them quickly. He opened a packet of smoked salmon and started to plate up. He set the breakfast bar up with cutlery and grey linen napkins, grabbing the salt and pepper from the cupboard just as Jenny came in looking even fresher. She smelt of JJ’s Terre d’Hermès shower gel. JJ took a deep breath and did his best to ignore it.

  ‘Mmm. You can cook as well!’

  ‘Only eggs,’ JJ answered honestly. ‘And a couple of other things. That aren’t really suitable for breakfast.’ He slid the plate over to her. ‘Unless you’re a Spag Bol in the mornings kind of a girl.’

  Jenny smiled and looked around as she ate. ‘Lovely apartment,’ she said. ‘You… like everything just so, don’t you?’

  ‘Just so?’ JJ discreetly checked the time over Jenny’s shoulder. He had a huge clock mounted on the wall. Not for this purpose, as such, but because he was so obsessive about time in general.

  ‘You’re very… neat,’ Jenny said, smiling brightly as if to convey that she wasn’t being critical. ‘I mean, my house is so messy compared to this.’

  JJ smiled. ‘Nothing wrong with being messy. It’s just not my bag.’

  ‘You’re probably verging on OCD,’ Jenny informed him, glancing around the sleek, white kitchen. ‘I mean, this is glossy and lovely, but you hardly have any stuff out. Where are the teabags?’

  ‘In the cupboard above the kettle,’ JJ said, drinking some iced water.

  The ‘OCD’ thing wasn’t new to him. Layla went on about it all the time. Said it was to do with control issues and most likely his past or some such thing. JJ didn’t buy it. He was sure Layla was excellent at her job, but therapy wasn’t really his thing. And he didn’t talk about his past to anyone. He almost had once, but he had stopped himself in time. And thank God! JJ could do without that particular person knowing all his sordid past demeanours.

  ‘I really enjoyed that,’ Jenny said, handing her plate to JJ.

  ‘I’m glad I had something I can actually cook in the house,’ he replied. ‘Otherwise who knows what you might have ended up with!’

  Jenny laughed and watched him load up the dishwasher.

  ‘Right.’ JJ needed to get things on track. ‘I need to get to the gym, I’m afraid. My client is due in twenty minutes.’

  ‘Oh yes. Of course.’ Jenny slid off the breakfast stool.

  ‘I’ll call you a cab,’ JJ offered, padding to the bedroom to find his phone. ‘Keep the t-shirt,’ he said with a grin when he returned, speed-dialling his local taxi firm. ‘It suits you.’

  ‘Aww, thanks,’ Jenny grinned back. ‘So. Shall we maybe… see one another again?’

  JJ made taxi arrangements then looked at Jenny. This was the bit he hated. He always tried to be respectful and he worked hard to make sure he didn’t seem cavalier about the way he was. He had experienced a few bad moments in the past at these times, but for the most part, these exchanges were awkward, but friendly enough.

  ‘It’s possible,’ he said carefully, ‘but I will admit to being a bit of a loner. As you can see, I like my life organised and under control.’ JJ waved a hand to encompass his well-ordered flat. And to explain his actions, even though it felt inadequate.

  Jenny looked rather crushed nonetheless. ‘Oh. I see. Well, sure. That’s fine. I just thought we had… a good time.’

  JJ nodded and on impulse, squeezed her hand. ‘We really did. And I’m not saying it won’t ever happen again, because you’re absolutely lovely.’ He felt bad, disappointing Jenny. And she really was lovely. Why didn’t he want to see her again? But he didn’t ever want to see girls again. Not of late, anyway. He had tried it a few times, but it hadn’t suited him. It had felt… pointless.

  Jenny waited, then realised that JJ was done talking. ‘Well, um, thank you. I think I’ll wait outside for the taxi.’

  ‘No need for that,’ JJ started, but Jenny was already heading out of the door. JJ sighed and ran a hand over his dark hair, feeling the short stubble. He felt awful. But he hated being disingenuous. He could easily make out he wanted more and say he was going to call, but wasn’t that worse? He didn’t want a relationship; he didn’t even want something casual with someone. Not when he felt the way he did.

  He went into his bedroom and swiftly tidied it so it was back to the way he liked it. He’d change the sheets later when he got back from the gym, he thought, glancing at the make-up smeared across the high-thread count. If he had time before Connie and Jonas’s dinner party, at any rate. JJ picked up his trainers and paused with them in his hand for a moment – Connie – then jumped as a text arrived on his phone. It was Connie. How strange that she would message just then.

  JJ opened the message. Connie was reminding him about the dinner party later. How typical. She felt the need to mother everyone. Especially him.

  Perversely, JJ felt like ignoring the text, simply because he knew it would irk Connie. Instead he sent a jokey one back with a shocked face emoji saying ‘Oh man, I’d forgotten! Not really, but have a date with an ex beforehand. Might be late. X’.

  JJ paused, removed the ‘X’, then sent the text. Yes. That was better. Checking that his apartment was tidy, organised and with everything in its place, JJ pulled the door shut behind him and headed to the gym.

  The Dinner Party

  ‘Does everyone have enough vegetables?’ Connie asking, holding up a dish of asparagus with pancetta and thyme butter.

  ‘Stop pushing the healthy stuff,’ Jonas complained, pulling a face. He wiped his mouth irritably with a napkin. ‘Why aren’t you offering us more pork belly?’

  Connie put the dish down and reached for the wine. ‘Because there isn’t any,’ she stated calmly. ‘You’ve eaten it all.’

  ‘Oh God. I have as well.’ Jonas groaned. He patted his stomach and let out a small burp. ‘Well. I’ve eaten it all apart from the plateful you left in the kitchen for JJ. And he’s bloody late as usual.’

  ‘Don’t you dare…!’ Connie watched as Jonas pretended to get up. ‘He’ll need to eat when he eventually turns up.’ She checked her watch and frowned. She had spent ages laying the table and the garden looked lovely through the French windows. Which, she presumed, was why she was narked that JJ was late.

  Layla laughed. ‘Don’t reward JJ for his shagging!’

  ‘And for turning up late,’ Jonas added for good measure, ‘if he even bothers to turn up at all, the cheeky bastard. He’s an hour late.’

  ‘He’ll be here,’ Connie said with more confidence than she felt. The doorbell rang.

  Layla slopped some wine into her glass. ‘Speak of the devil.’

  Jonas got up and went to the door. The usual round of back-slapping and boyish chat between them could be heard from the dining room.

  ‘It’s a bit cheeky him turning up late like this, isn’t it?’ Layla said to Connie while the guys were still absent. ‘Are you annoyed?’

  Connie shrugged. ‘No. It’s just JJ, isn’t it?’

  ‘He always puts hoes before bros,’ Layla moaned. She stopped hazily. ‘I’ve had too much wine. Are we bros?’

  ‘No, hun. We’re not bros. We’re his friends.’ Connie played with her hair, tidying it up. She probably would be annoyed if it was anyone else but JJ turning up this late, to be fair.

  Layla glanced at Connie. She looked well, but she was wearing a black, high-necked dress and the heating was on full blast. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head prettily and her cheeks were flushed, but she looked a bit prim in the austere dress. Layla had gone for a floral tea dress with some decent heels and she hadn’t really had time to do much with her hair, so
it was a big, blond mess. But Layla had hardly had any time to get ready because her mum had kicked off an hour before she’d left and it had taken ages to settle her. Layla sighed. She felt quite dishevelled next to Connie, but then, she supposed she always had.

  ‘Hey,’ Connie said brightly as Jonas and JJ came in.

  ‘Sorry I’m late,’ JJ said, coming over to kiss Connie’s cheek.

  She kissed him back. He reeked of a pungent perfume, presumably courtesy of the woman who had caused him to be late, but he looked great. Smart and in good spirits.

  ‘I bring wine,’ JJ said, kissing Layla and brandishing a bottle of red. He glanced around the house. It looked amazing. Connie had a knack for making her home look both magazine-worthy and homely. He could smell something good in the air and he suddenly wished he’d got here earlier.

  ‘And you’ve drunk loads already,’ Layla said, watching him sway. She giggled. ‘Sit down, you fool! You’ll fall over.’

  ‘I will not,’ JJ said, falling into a chair. ‘Whoops.’

  Connie got up. ‘I saved you some pork belly. Yes, yes, you’ll need to do some sit-ups after eating it…’

  JJ started opening the bottle of wine he’d brought. ‘Sit-ups? I’ll need squats and lunges as well after that. Bloody love pork belly.’

  Layla helped herself to some asparagus. ‘You almost missed it, you were so late, fella. So who was the date with? Someone special?’

  ‘No,’ JJ replied honestly. ‘An ex. I don’t usually date exes, but she was upset about something. She forced me to get drunk with her.’

  ‘And then forced herself on you?’ Layla asked, looking unconvinced.

  ‘In a manner of speaking,’ JJ confirmed, slurring his words. He struggled with the bottle opener, but felt weird talking about his evening. Maybe it was because Connie was here.

  Jonas took the bottle from JJ. ‘Give me that, you nobhead. You can’t even open it. Are any of the women you’ve shagged special?’

  JJ met Connie’s eyes as she came in and put a plate down in front of him. He didn’t appreciate that question from Jonas. Not in front of Connie.