No Sex in the City

  ‘Don’t go dying on me this morning,’ I threaten. ‘I wouldn’t trust myself to save my own mother, let alone you.’

  Ruby flings an arm across my shoulders. ‘Well hello, Miss Grumpy!’

  I manage a laugh. ‘I really hate exercising when even the birds are still asleep.’

  ‘You’ll get used to it,’ Theresa says as she raises her leg straight up, doing a vertical split. Ruby and I stare at her in awe.

  ‘Are you a dancer?’ I ask.

  Theresa bursts out laughing. ‘I was a size eighteen three years ago.’

  We are both momentarily deprived of speech.

  ‘Alex, the trainer, changed my life.’

  ‘Eight o’ clock, eight o’ clock,’ Ruby interrupts. ‘Stunner. Oh and five o’ clock. Perfect face. And ... wait ... yep! He’s not wearing a ring.’

  Theresa and Pina grin.

  ‘How can you tell from so far away?’ I ask.

  Ruby smiles slyly. ‘Practice. Plenty of practice.’

  ‘Well, don’t bother,’ Pina says. ‘He’s going out with the size-six hottie over there.’

  Ruby frowns. ‘She’d better have a bad personality.’

  ‘She’s actually one of the nicest people we train with,’ Theresa says.

  Ruby shakes her head. ‘You can’t have looks and personality.’ She pouts. ‘That’s so unfair.’

  I glance around at the group, taking a closer look. There’s no doubt there are some good-looking guys here. So now I just need to figure out their religion, then their level of religious observance, moving on to education, career prospects, temperament, capacity to engage in quality conversation, ability to make me laugh, travel experience and, just for the fun of it, interest in commitment.

  Alex rounds us all up and we gather around him in a semicircle. He’s lean, buff and, well, okay, has a perfect body. There’s a tattoo of a cross on his right arm and some elaborate calligraphy on his left.

  He waits for silence. Some people jog on the spot, waiting for him to start. I join in, trying to warm up my muscles. I try to persuade Ruby to do it too, but she refuses. ‘Are you nuts?’ she chides. ‘One hour of training is enough.’

  ‘Youse are machines,’ Alex starts when we’ve all quietened down. ‘Youse have to believe in yourself.’ Ruby and I immediately exchange amused glances, educated snobs that we are. ‘Don’t let your mind talk to youse. Don’t give in to the pain. Everybody feels pain! Love the pain! Don’t think you’re alone. Fight it! Get through it! Push yourself. Give me everything youse got. That’s all I expect. I don’t care if youse can only do two push-ups. If two is the best youse got to offer and you’ve pushed yourself to the max, then I’m happy. Don’t get to the end of the session thinking youse could have given me more. Get to the end of the session thinking you’re gonna die.’

  Ruby shoots me a look of alarm. It’s the first indication she’s given that she realises what we’re in for.

  ‘If you get to the end thinking you’re about to die, then you’ll know you did your best and I’ll be happy.’ He glances down at his clipboard. ‘Some of youse haven’t filled out the forms. I gotta get all the details on here. Cos of the lawyers and stuff. Bill, where are ya, man?’

  An overweight guy calls out, ‘Here.’

  ‘You need to fill out your emergency contact details. You’ve put down triple zero.’ Some people laugh. ‘That’s not what the form means. I’ll put down your wife, yeah?’

  ‘What the hell is my wife gonna do for me if I pass out? Man, this is my first time exercising. I’m overweight, unfit and I smoke. If I’m in an emergency you call triple zero, cos the only people I’m gonna need are the kind you find in an ambulance.’

  We all burst out laughing.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ Alex says after he’s finished taking down some details for two more people. ‘It’s six on the dot now. We gonna get things started and have an awesome session! Come on!’

  In the next hour I want to cry out for my mother at least fifty times. We do squats with heavy medicine balls, skipping (I’m sure I could skip as a child, but now it seems that colonic irrigation would be more pleasant), boxing and kickboxing rounds and lots of running. Lots. I thought I was a runner, but my jogging sessions around the block are nothing to what we do. Twenty one-hundred-metre sprints with thirty seconds ‘recovery’ in between. At number three, Ruby looks like she’s about to pass out. ‘It’s okay,’ I tell her during our ‘break’.

  ‘I can’t do it!’ she shrieks. ‘He’s a madman!’

  ‘I HATE YOU!’ a girl cries out to him.

  ‘Excellent!’ Alex cries back. ‘Hate me! Think about how much youse hate me while you’re running. I’ve got pensioners who have had hip replacements doing this! YOUSE CAN DO IT! GO!’

  We take off. Ruby and I are panting like ex-smokers (which we are) and asthmatics (which we are not). We make it to the finishing line and Alex blows the whistle twice, indicating that the session is over. With no thought for how we look, Ruby and I collapse onto the dewy grass, our lungs dangling at our feet, our faces bright red. When I finally catch my breath, I look around. There are others on the ground too, or hobbling back to the basketball courts. Pina and Theresa come over to us and offer us each a hand, pulling us up.

  Ruby’s curls have come undone and are cascading down her back. Not, I’m afraid, in some BBC-period-romance way but rather in an I-need-defrizz-serum-and-a-stylist way.

  As for me, I’m euphoric.

  ‘That was so not what I expected,’ Ruby gasps as we limp back to collect our bags.

  ‘It was better!’ I cry maniacally.

  ‘We told you you’d love it!’ Theresa says, patting me on the back.

  ‘I feel fantastic!’

  Ruby looks at me aghast. ‘We look shocking!’ she complains. ‘That was not exercise, it was torture. And even though we’re surrounded by eligible bachelors, I only caught the fat guys perving at me. There has to be more of an incentive than getting fit!’

  ‘You’ve already paid for the six weeks,’ Pina says, ‘so don’t quit now. We all start like that, but we end up addicted.’

  Ruby stops dead in her tracks and casts an evil look at Pina. ‘Addicted? You are not normal. And neither is Alex. He’s a sadist.’

  ‘Well, not really,’ says a voice from behind us. It’s Alex. He grins at Ruby and she laughs nervously, clearly embarrassed. ‘What’s your name?’ he asks her.

  ‘Ruby.’

  ‘I know you want to quit,’ he says.

  She stands up straight and looks him in the eye. ‘Yeah, that’s right,’ she says boldly. ‘Haven’t you heard that the “no pain no gain” mantra is outdated?’

  ‘Well,’ he says, taking a step towards her and grinning, ‘maybe that argument works to sell gym memberships, but it doesn’t work for me. Sure you’re gonna feel pain today, and believe me, when you wake up tomorrow you’re gonna be cursing me even more than you are now.’ Ruby holds his gaze defiantly. ‘But if you stick with me, the pain’ll get better and you’ll learn to love it.’

  Ruby laughs cynically. ‘I almost passed out! I wanted to vomit!’

  ‘So vomit!’ he says cheerfully. ‘Happens in most first classes. Go over to that bush over there, let it out, then get right back into it. Don’t be weak, Ruby. Don’t let your mind play games with you.’

  ‘What star sign are you?’ Ruby suddenly asks.

  He looks perplexed but answers, ‘Aries. Why?’

  A smile spreads slowly up to her eyes. ‘Figures,’ she says smugly.

  He half-laughs. ‘What are you on about?’

  ‘Aries are naturally active and energetic people,’ Ruby says authoritatively. ‘Me? I’m a Gemini. I party. Not exercise.’

  ‘Oh, Ruby,’ I chide. ‘Enough with the astrology.’

  Alex grins at her. ‘Ruby, you’re gonna go home tonight and your mind’s gonna tell you this isn’t for you. You’ll start thinking of the Ariel and planet stuff. It’s gonna tell you that you’re better off
doing some aerobics class. That’s fine. But just remember, nobody started here as an athlete. Everybody felt just the way you did. See Theresa here? She called me the day after her first class crying cos it hurt so bad. Look at her now. She’s lost weight but I don’t care about the weight. That’s the easy part. She’s fit now. She’s healthy and happy. Trust me. Stick with me for the next six weeks and I can guarantee you’ll be craving these sessions.’

  I watch Ruby as she stares at Alex. Being her best friend I can see the subtle shift in her stance, the loosening of her facial muscles, the widening of her eyes. I can just see her assessing Gemini/Aries compatibility.

  ‘Like all of us who’ve been here for a while, you’re gonna be into training,’ Alex says.

  Actually, no, Alex. She’s going to be into you.

  Fourteen

  Sara Lopez emerges from the lift with the latest pram (all sparkly and spaceship-looking), matching baby bag (designer, of course) and tiny, adorable nine-week-old baby fast asleep in the spacecraft, snug in an Oroton wrap. Sara (formerly Zumba fanatic and herbal-appetite-suppressant addict) has that first-mother look. A mix of glowing, delusional, exhausted and overjoyed, with a dash of the paramilitary about her (I’m a little scared when I place my hand on little Delilah’s chest and Sara, who is talking to Veronica, snaps her head back to look at me and then takes a step closer to the pram, like a bodyguard averting an act of terrorism).

  ‘She’s not due to wake up for another fifteen minutes,’ she says, her voice high-pitched and, well, bordering on hysterical. ‘Puhlease don’t touch her!’ She sniffs the air dramatically. ‘Is somebody smoking?’ she cries.

  Veronica and I exchange wary but puzzled looks.

  ‘Impossible,’ I say, careful to tread delicately. ‘The smoke detectors would have been activated.’

  ‘Well, I know the smell of smoke,’ she says breathlessly. Then she laughs nervously. ‘Maybe it’s coming up through the vents. Honestly, people are so selfish. Don’t they realise the effects of passive smoking?’

  I resist, reminding her that a) we’re on level five; b) like all modern buildings, the windows are unable to be opened as a precaution against mass suicides (I don’t really know anybody who likes their job); and c) the selfish people smoking are huddled in the alley adjacent to our building, about a five-minute walk away, and would probably be under the sensible impression that cigarette smoke won’t affect a baby snug in its pram five floors up in the nearby building.

  ‘I don’t allow smokers to even hold my child,’ Sara says self-righteously. ‘A disgusting habit.’

  She’s clearly forgotten that she is an ex-smoker who formerly backstabbed an asthmatic client who complained of her smoking at a function.

  Suddenly Delilah wakes up and lets out a piercing cry. It hurts to hear it.

  Sara leaps at the pram. ‘She’s awake! Time for a feed!’

  The cries continue and I feel like stripping Sara down and throwing the baby at her boob. Delilah’s cries draw Danny out of his office.

  ‘Oh, Sara,’ he says pleasantly. ‘Welcome back.’

  ‘Just a visit, Danny,’ Sara says cheerfully.

  Then she sits down at the lunch table, whips her boob out of her bra and starts to unwrap the screaming Delilah (confusing the more appropriate order). Danny’s jaw hits the ground. Veronica smirks at me. Danny keeps staring until Sara finally starts feeding Delilah.

  Danny takes a step towards me as Sara talks to Veronica, filling her in on all her stories of new motherhood.

  ‘Mary got her period yesterday,’ he says wistfully.

  Ew ew ew ew!

  ‘Danny,’ I say firmly, ‘I don’t need to know that.’

  ‘She’s devastated.’ He leans in close to me and whispers, ‘She says I’m shooting blanks.’

  I put my hands to my ears. ‘Danny,’ I say through gritted teeth, ‘there is a line. Professional and personal. You’re crossing it.’

  He pouts, pretending to be wounded. ‘I thought we were friends.’

  ‘You’re my boss.’

  ‘You’re such a prude,’ he jokes, as he stares at Sara’s breast.

  ‘And you’re a jerk,’ I snap.

  ‘Hey,’ he says, suddenly serious, a flash of anger in his eyes. ‘If I’m your boss, then that would be out of line. You can’t have it both ways.’

  I hold his gaze for a moment, defiant, but nonetheless trapped by the unstable dynamics of our relationship. I turn to Sara, wish her luck and storm to my office.

  At the staff meeting later that week Veronica and I are laughing about a candidate who applies for every job we advertise (whether it’s pharmacy, care of the elderly or legal), changing his qualifications depending on the job. Danny interrupts, announcing that Sara won’t be returning to work after all. We’re all shocked. She was one of the best staff, always over budget, with a killer rapport with clients.

  ‘Apparently she doesn’t want to be a working mum. She’s too much in love with motherhood,’ he says sarcastically. ‘After all the time and money I invested in building her career, she throws it away to spend her days breastfeeding and changing nappies!’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ Veronica says. ‘Not everybody wants a career. Some women prefer full-time motherhood.’

  Danny smiles insincerely. ‘You’re right, Veronica. Which is why you can’t have it both ways. I stand to lose too much. Thank God your relationship is on the rocks. I can’t see you popping out a baby any time soon. As for Esma here, she’s so fussy she’s unlikely to find anyone who meets her high standards. My star employees! Don’t either of you even think about having a baby in the next five years if you want to see yourselves moving up in this place.’

  ‘That’s outrageous,’ Veronica cries.

  Danny laughs. ‘Veronica, we’re recruiters. We all know that’s how the world works. And I’m the boss, remember. It’s my way or the highway.’

  He looks at me then. I avert my gaze. I think of rusty nails and eyeballs. It is strangely calming.

  Nirvana calls me a couple of hours before we’re due to meet for our next No Sex in the City get-together to tell me that she can’t make it.

  ‘Why not?’ I exclaim.

  ‘Anil’s booked dinner and a movie,’ she says apologetically. ‘A double date with his sister and brother-in-law. I’m sorry, Esma, but I can’t cancel when he went to all the trouble.’

  ‘I went to trouble too,’ I whine.

  ‘Oh ... Did you book already?’

  I clear my throat. ‘Well, no, but I went to the trouble of suggesting it.’

  ‘Sorry,’ she says, sounding less apologetic this time. ‘You understand, though, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course,’ I mutter. Then I feel a pang of guilt. The last thing I want is to play the role of the jealous friend. That’s so high school. ‘I’m just being silly,’ I add quickly. ‘Have a great night out together.’

  Her voice switches instantly and she’s her enthusiastic, bubbly self again as we discuss what she’s going to wear and how she’s going to do her hair.

  When I meet the girls at Darlinghurst that evening and explain to them that Nirvana can’t make it because she’s on a date with Anil, Ruby can’t disguise her displeasure.

  ‘Any other night,’ she declares, ‘any other night would be acceptable, but not a No Sex in the City night! That’s just wrong.’

  ‘Oh, Ruby, give her a break,’ Lisa scolds, taking a sip of her soda. ‘You guys go on and on about meeting The One and when he bloody well arrives you whine about his timing.’

  I burst out laughing. Ruby shoots me a look.

  ‘You complained first.’

  ‘Okay, okay,’ I say, backing down. ‘Let’s just order.’

  When we’re done ordering, Ruby places her hands on the table, stares intently at us and says, ‘Would you think I’m an idiot if I told you that I’ve got a crush on Alex?’

  I burst out laughing again.

  ‘Wow, thanks!’ Ruby jokes. ‘Make me feel good, why
don’t you?’

  ‘Who’s Alex?’ Lisa demands.

  ‘Our boot-camp instructor,’ I explain.

  Lisa laughs hysterically.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ Ruby asks.

  ‘The idea of you at boot camp.’

  ‘Yes, I know,’ Ruby says. ‘But apparently Alex is worth the agony of sit-ups because I’m actually looking forward to the next session.’

  Lisa gives Ruby a wry smile.

  ‘We’re polar opposites. I’m sure of that. But he’s ...’ Ruby looks upwards, searching for the right word.

  ‘Irresistible?’ I offer.

  Ruby grins. ‘That will do.’

  Lisa smiles. ‘It’s been a long time since I’ve met somebody who’s had that effect on me.’

  Ruby isn’t buying. ‘Come on. I don’t believe you. No intense animal magnetism?’

  Lisa thinks for a moment. ‘Nope. Not since uni.’

  ‘Christ, it must be a side effect of working with women who only experience the worst in men.’

  ‘Give me some credit. I’m intelligent enough to distinguish between scumbags and decent guys.’

  ‘So basically the last guy you took any interest in was Jerry at uni?’ Ruby asks.

  Lisa, who is finding the whole conversation amusing, nods.

  Ruby studies Lisa’s face. ‘I thought the whole celibacy thing was because deep down your mum’s nagging was working and you hadn’t truly turned your back on your religion.’

  Lisa laughs loudly. ‘Celibacy? You make me sound so ...’

  ‘So me!’ I say and we all laugh.

  ‘If my soulmate came along and I actually had the time to notice, sure I’d be interested. But in the meantime I’m not interested in the occasional fling or casual relationship. That’s not because I’m religious. It’s because I’m just not a casual person. I don’t fling anything or anybody to the side. I’m never going to be a short-term loan. I need full-term, and exorbitant rates of interest.’

  ‘That is so lame,’ Ruby says, hitting Lisa playfully on the shoulder.