The Ice Marathon Read Online Free PDF Page A

was one of my absolute favourites and being in a brilliant mood made it even
better.
    “Has Peter Serafinowicz ever played a likeable character in
anything?” I asked.
    “He’s not too bad in Coupling ,” said a voice from the
armchair.
    “He’s not in Coupling ,” was my automatic response.
    Hang on – that voice was familiar … Suddenly, the hairs
on the back of my neck stood on end. I felt my vaginal muscles twitch. Dare I
look around?
    “Yes he is; that’s where he met his wife.” It was that damn, deep, assertive voice that I’d heard before – argumentative as ever.
    “He is married to Sarah Alexander, but he’s not in Coupling ,”
I replied.
    I had to confirm my suspicions. There was no sense wasting
goose bumps on the wrong man. I dared myself to turn around. I slowly rotated
my head, feeling that neck movement would be more discreet than torso
revolution.
    My heartbeat skidded to a halt. Sure enough, there was that
square, self-assured face staring back at me. The last time he had stared at me
had been moments before we … Eek! I found myself blushing. Thank
goodness it was dark. Rapidly, I transferred my gaze back toward the general
direction of the television.
    What was I supposed to do now? I mean certainly, I could sit
here and watch the end of the film, but what then? Would I have to speak to him? Well, I couldn’t not speak to him. I wished I’d called him when
I’d had the chance – anything to have cleared the air. Letting two months churn
by had only served to make facing him even harder. I should have known that I’d
bump into him again sooner or later.
    I wondered if he could tell I’d put on a little weight. My
flowing cornflower blouse hid them well, but I knew that they were there –
unwanted pounds, mocking me. Was he sitting there, looking at me and thinking,
‘How could I have done the squelchy with that hippo?’
    It is difficult concentrating on a film when a virtual
stranger whose bottom you fingered happens to be sitting right behind you. If
they’d swapped the film for Dogville , I would not have noticed. The
episode on the kitchen worktop replayed in my mind, as it had done so many
times before.
    Finally, the credits rolled and Queen played: ‘Ooh, you make
me live …’ I heard Dave get up and shortly after, the bathroom door
slammed shut.
    “Right, who’s for a cup of tea?” asked Nicky, springing up
off the sofa.
    No! Don’t go! Don’t leave me here with the man who helped
me break at least seven kitchen hygiene rules!
    It was too late; she had gone. I prayed that Simon would get
up and go to the toilet too, but then I remembered that we only had one
bathroom. I could get up and go to my room, but that would be beyond rude,
besides which, I’d have to walk past him to get there. I couldn’t risk any more
eye contact – cringe .
    “So …” he began, and then trailed off.
    “So,” I echoed, turning slightly and looking past him.
    There was a long pause.
    ‘Ooh, you make me live!’ blared the television.
    “How have you been?” “How are you?” we asked, at once.
    “Fine.” “Good.”
    There was another long pause.
    “So you’ve been well?” he asked.
    “Yes. You? Have you been well?”
    “Yes.”
    “Glad to hear it.”
    “Good.”
    “Great.”
    “We’ve both been well. Super.”
    “Yes. That is super. I’ve very glad you’re well, naturally.”
    ‘Ooh, I’ve been wandering round,
    But I still come back to you.’
    I wondered if I should turn the TV off …
    “So, everything with you is … well.”
    “Yes.”
    The bathroom door opened. Thank God. I heard Dave’s
footsteps back in the room. Finally, relief from the terrible embarrassment of
having to tell a former lover that I was well.
    Dave chuckled. “I completely forgot that we tried to set you
two up!” he said. “Man, wasn’t that a night?”
    “Mmm,” we both squeaked.

Chapter 4
    It was the hottest day of the year – a fact that had far
from escaped my