Free Bucket Nut by Liza Cody Page A

had told me the night before I thought she could do with some healthy exercise, and besides, we had run out of milk for breakfast. Also I was hoping to see Harsh.
    Goldie caused quite a kerfuffle at Sam’s Gym. Suddenly everyone was coming over to me helloing and how-you-doing. Anyone would have thought I was popular. Gruff Gordon was there and Pete Carver and Danny Julio who is half a father and son tag-team. The son, Flying Phil, was there too. He’s called Flying Phil because of the work he does off the ropes and corners.
    I could tell Goldie was a bit nervous because, even while she smiled and said hello, she had her thumbs tucked into fists. People think I don’t notice details, but I do. And one thing I’ve noticed is that anxious women clutch their own thumbs. Don’t ask me why.
    Gruff Gordon and Pete Carver are very big men and enough to make anyone nervous who isn’t accustomed. So I gave Goldie some dosh to make phone calls and buy herself some clobber. She couldn’t go around in my Guns N’ Roses sweatshirt for ever.
    â€˜Who’s the doll? Who’s the chick?’ The fellers kept asking, and I lied to them.
    We had decided, Goldie and me, that as so many people were taking an unhealthy interest in her we’d better keep her real name to ourselves. And since I already called her Goldie and she liked it we would call her Goldie Green.
    â€˜Fancy you having a friend like her!’ Pete Carver said.
    â€˜Why shouldn’t she?’ Gruff Gordon asked. Which was nice of him, except that Gruff Gordon could bullshit for Britain and whenever he’s nice to me I wonder what he wants.
    I ignored them both and went to the mat to warm up. Always warm up properly before lifting. Some of the fellers, especially theyoung ones, think it’s macho not to. But they’re just asking for it.
    After that I moved onto the machines and Danny and Phil Julio took over the mat to work out some new moves. I was doing leg curls when Harsh came in and started to warm up in the corner. I watched him, ticking off all his exercises, making sure I had done everything he was doing. I hadn’t forgotten a single one, and I was well chuffed.
    Then Goldie came back. She had bought herself some pretty Lycra gear and looked a treat. But she had a glum expression on her face.
    â€˜I can’t get hold of anyone,’ she whispered. ‘I phoned everyone and no one answers. You’d think all my friends had been wiped off the face of the earth.’
    I stopped what I was doing. Goldie talking made me lose count of my repetitions. But my femoral muscles were hurting so I thought I’d done enough.
    â€˜Never mind,’ I said. ‘Try again later.’
    â€˜But …’ she said, and stopped. She looked as if the end of the world was nigh.
    â€˜But what?’ I had quite a glow on from all the physical stuff. It always cheers me up no end.
    â€˜Christ, Eva,’ she whispered, ‘I’m stony broke, I’m wanted by the you know who, my boyfriend dumped me, I can’t even go home to change clothes and now I’m in debt to you too.’
    â€˜I don’t mind subbing you,’ I said, and it was true because it wouldn’t be for long. Nice middle-class girls always have nice middle-class families to bail them out. It was, I thought, only a matter of time before she tapped them, and then she’d be in the clear. If I’d been her I would’ve done it months ago. Then she would pay me back. True, she was in debt to British Gas, British Telecom, the South Eastern Electricity Board, three landlords and Putney Borough Council. But those weren’t people. I was people.
    â€˜You’ll pay me back,’ I said.
    â€˜You’re a pal, Eva,’ she said, and that was all I wanted to hear.
    I turned over and lay face down, fitting my feet under the bar again. That way I raised the weights on the back of my ankles, one, two,three, four