"Come on guys just a couple more."
I grunted in response forcing the heavy barbell over my head, sweat pouring down my forehead.
"Well done guys that was really good."
I sat up and put the bar down looking at the rest of the class. Wow what a dead bunch. Frankly it had been a flat class, the teacher Katy spoke in a quiet, wispy voice that was kind of demotivating and most people in this weights class were in dire need of conditioning lacking any sense of personality or desire.
"Ok well lets warm down, grab your hamstring..."
But nobody was listening the next class had already started flooding in ignorant of the fact Katy was still teaching. I urged her to say something, to stand up for herself. But no. She just stood there helplessly wringing her hands. People were putting their weights away creating a loud clatter. The rudeness of people never failed to disappoint me. I put my bar back and grabbed my towel mopping my soaking brow. My yellow t-shirt clung to my skin, my black Adidas shorts moist with perspiration. I headed for the showers.
Katy must have rushed out pretty quick, goodness knows why they always let her cover it – numbers were low and the response she got was minimal. In fairness to her she wasn't that bad, as a weightlifting class it was perfect for me but most of the others found it too hard and wanted more time to lie on a mat pretending to do sit-ups.
I showered enjoying the cool water against my feverish skin. Fair play to Katy she had worked us hard. I pulled on my black jogging trousers and a white Nike t-shirt slinging my grey hoodie over my shoulder. I climbed the stairs two at a time; the gym always gave me a real spring in my step.
It was cool outside. Cooler than I expected. I stopped, dropping my gym bag to the ground next to the gym entrance and pulled on the grey hoodie appreciating the warmth of the cotton. I picked up my gym bag but stopped in my tracks.
Katy was crouched down over a hideous furry leopard print bag. Vintage probably. I hated that term. What did it mean? I had never seen anything remotely attractive that was vintage. Katy seemed to shop vintage only. She always wore an eclectic range of mismatched items that seldom suited her. Take right now for example: she was wearing brown cowboy boots that cut above the ankle with black tights and a tight red skirt that must have been a kids size because it didn't even reach her knees. She had some sort of stripy zebra patterned cardigan which in fact was quite nice but still looked odd when combined with the outfit as a whole particularly when you accounted for her red hair which was tied back messily into a sort of bun.
I felt bad for her after the class and well she just looked so pitiful crouched over her bag.
"Hey Katy are you alright?"
She fell backwards in shock turning to me clearly flustered.
"Katy I'm sorry I didn't mean to startle you!"
She hurriedly got to her feet self-consciously brushing non-existent dirt from her cardigan.
"N-no it's quite ok – I'm sorry I was just trying to find something... I..."
"I just wanted to say thanks for the class I really feel like I worked. It was a proper weights class I wish there were more like that"
"You liked it? Seriously?"
"Yeah seriously it was challenging, exactly what it should be."
"What about the others though they didn't seem to like it did they?"
"I wouldn't worry about them Katy, seriously they're always like that. It's a dead bunch of people there's nothing that you could do"
She smiled a little but still seemed deeply upset and so downbeat it showed in every part of her. I guessed she was in her forties; her skin carried a wearied fragility to it, her soft brown eyes forlorn and despondent. It was a shame really as she had a certain cuteness to her: delicate cheekbones, a small button nose and thin lips that she constantly kept biting. Combine this with her haphazardly arranged hair and mismatched attire it really was impossible for you not to pity her. At this exact moment I honestly wanted to hug her and tell her it would get better.
She had turned to her bag again but didn't appear to be having any more success in finding what she was looking for.
"Any luck?" I asked her when she ceased her rummaging.
"No." She replied with a hopeless air.
"What are you looking for?"
"I thought I'd brought my jumper and scarf but I must have left them at school."
Yes, that was right, she taught at a private school in Soho. Primary I think. I struggled to imagine how she could garner the respect of little brats when she failed to gain any from adults at the gym.
It had started to drizzle and black clouds loomed ominously overhead.
"Hey Katy do you fancy going for a coffee of something?"
"Huh? No. I mean no I'm sorry I just...I should get home."
"Come on it's raining let me buy you a cup of coffee at least until it stops."
She looked uncertainly back at me.
"We can talk about how irritating the guy in the white shirt is as the front..."
She smiled.
"Ok then where were you thinking?"
"There's a nice café around the corner from here."
"Ok lets go there then."
"Here take my hoodie, at least until we get there."
She shook her head but I insisted.
"Thank you" She whispered.
It was a cold evening for September, when the sun was out it was warm but as soon as it went in you knew summer was over and autumn approached.
"Pretty cold isn't it?" I remarked rubbing my hands together.
"Y-yes, yes it is...Nik take your jumper back you must be freezing."
"No don't be silly I'm fine, I'm still warm from the class y'know?"
"I wasn't going to take it today but Adrian had nobody else so I felt I had to..."
"Here we are."
I held the door open and she hurried inside mumbling a breathless thank you. I liked the place a lot. Café de Florentine was a great blend of modern and old: all dark mahogany, soft light emitting from oval glass lamps and warm, cosy booths cosseted away in the seemingly endless expanse of the room itself.
"This place is wonderful how did you find it?" Katy asked breathlessly.
"I stumbled upon it a couple of weeks ago, it's still kind of unknown you know in that stage between being secret underground and mainstream underground."
"I've never seen anywhere quite like it."
"No neither have I, that's what I love about it."
We walked further in towards the counter. That was what struck me most about the place, the counter was filled with cakes of all shapes and sizes but the menus and staff wouldn't have looked out of place at Starbucks. Come to think of it Starbucks probably owned it – they did own everything after all.
"What do you want?"
"Oh just a cup of tea please."
"What kind?"
"Oh um..."
"I'd recommend the Chai it's terrific here."
"Erm well ok then."
"Two Chai's and a slice of the coconut drizzle cake please."
The faceless guy behind the bar silently placed the cake on an ivory gold rimmed plate and then a soft whirring and two Chai's sat on the counter.
5.23
"Thanks."
