The Old Girls' Network. Judy Leigh

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘They don’t buy into the Love Thy Neighbour idea, shall we say.’

      ‘What is wrong with them?’

      ‘Cat problems, mostly.’ Chrissie shrugged. ‘Dulcie’s cats, the Feral Peril, are a bit of a local liability. And Phyllis and Dulcie used to go to school together – they were best friends but time has changed all that.’

      ‘How petty,’ Barbara muttered. ‘I’ll never remember all these names anyway.’

      Hayley appeared at the door; her face serene. ‘Please come into the space. We’re ready to start.’

      Barbara took the blue mat offered to her and marched to the back, sitting down. She stared around – the older ladies, clearly well past eighty-years-old, one wiry and the other plumper, were still eyeballing each other viciously. They certainly wouldn’t be good recruits for a hike around the hills with her. Barbara wondered what these old ladies managed to achieve in yoga. Phyllis was propped up with cushions and Dulcie moved sharply but with deliberate effort.

      She glanced at the yoga teacher who was writing something down on a piece of paper, and the young doctor, who appeared to be asleep. Barbara couldn’t remember either of their names. Then at the front, there was Pauline and the woman with orange and purple hair, whom Barbara knew instantly that she wouldn’t like. On one side of her was Chrissie, the crazy vicar, who was sitting cross-legged, her eyes squeezed, shut: she appeared to be praying. The blonde woman on the other side of Barbara glanced over and winked.

      ‘I’m Yvonne.’

      Barbara nodded curtly. ‘From the Post Office. I know.’

      She decided she couldn’t be bothered to introduce herself. The yoga teacher, Hayley, was playing some soothing music on a portable CD player and everyone was now lying down. Barbara stared around her, at the filthy windows and the grubby finger-marked walls that clearly needed a coat of paint.

      Hayley had lit a joss stick, so Barbara coughed loudly to make it clear that the smoke was an irritant. Hayley beamed across at her and gestured that she should lie down. Barbara frowned: she thought she was here to do yoga, not to go to sleep, but she leaned back and closed her eyes. The music was reminiscent of waves ebbing and flowing and there were soft sounds, the chattering of dolphins or the gentle calls of gulls. Barbara breathed out and let the music wash over her, the sickly-sweet smell of incense, the warm heat from the metal radiators, and she began to drift. It was as if she was floating, her limbs numb, her mind at peace.

      Suddenly there was a silence, no sound at all; the stillness jolted her awake and she opened her eyes. Everyone else was standing up, stretching long arms into the air and Barbara sat bolt upright, about to ask crossly why no one had woken her, but Hayley’s sweet voice chimed, ‘Nice to have you with us again, Barbara. Take your time, don’t rush. Join us when you’re ready.’

      Pauline turned and smiled across at her and Barbara scuttled to her feet, making a short sound to show she was exasperated at being allowed to sleep through the beginning of the class. Hayley resumed the session, lifting her arms in the air and sweeping them down to her sides. Everyone else was doing the same, Phyllis still seated on her mat propped with cushions. Barbara copied, wafting her arms around as fast as possible, thinking the whole thing reminiscent of primary school PE but with ill-fitting borrowed jogging bottoms instead of baggy navy knickers. She did her best to follow everyone else, but it all felt somewhat pointless. There was an exercise where everyone sat down and twisted round, and Hayley ran around the hall putting more cushions behind Dulcie and Phyllis. Barbara wondered why they chose to take the class: their bones kept cracking, a sort of stereo percussion popping, and at one point she was sure Dulcie passed wind.

      Hayley’s soothing voice pulled Barbara from her thoughts.

      ‘We’re going to revisit Warrior Two now. So, take up the first position. Stand in Tadasana, exhale, step forward so that your feet are about three or four feet apart.’

      Barbara had no idea what to do, so she copied Yvonne. Hayley moved softly around the room, helping Phyllis into position.

      ‘Now raise your arms parallel to the floor and reach out to the sides.’

      Hayley appeared discreetly next to Barbara, supporting her arm, smiling. Barbara scowled: she’d thought she was doing well enough by herself. Hayley moved back to the front.

      ‘Exhale and bend your left knee over the left ankle, so that the shin is perpendicular to the floor. Anchor yourself strongly. Well done.’

      Barbara glanced at the other women. They were all facing a huge window, their arms stretched out, waving in the air like a bunch of flapping flamingos, balanced precariously on the front foot. She made her body into some sort of scarecrow position, copying Yvonne. Hayley seemed pleased with the class.

      ‘Now, turn your head to the left and look out over the fingers. Exhale. Relax in the position now. Think of yourself as Shiva the warrior, solid and grounded. You are Virabhadra with a thousand heads, a thousand eyes.’

      Barbara managed not to make a comment, although she felt silly and thought the pose was daft. The thousand eyes were turned on the grimy window. The room was silent. She thought she heard someone wobble behind her. Dulcie passed wind again. Then an almost-naked young man in tight jeans filled the windowpane, a chamois leather cloth in his hand. His face was serious as he swished water onto the window and rubbed the glass. The cold clearly didn’t bother him: he was working strenuously, his body gleaming with sweat.

      The thousand eyes of Virabhadra took in the shape of the young man, his broad shoulders, his long damp curls, his bare chest. The eyes gazed at the perspiration that shone on his torso, the tangle of hairs that appeared to extend beyond his flat stomach and at the taut muscles in his arms. The eyes moved in unison back to his stunningly beautiful face, with its high cheekbones, soft lips, dark eyes beneath strong brows.

      The young man in his mid-twenties didn’t seem to notice the gaze of several enamoured Shivas or their concentrated examination of the water droplets that were running down his neck and across his naked chest, onto the waistband of his denims. He had no idea that the warriors in the room were assessing his physical talents and imagining the level balance of his straddled legs below, unfortunately out of view.

      Suddenly someone from the front, probably the woman with the hair in various shades of scarlet, muttered, ‘Oh my God – just look at him.’

      Another voice whispered, ‘Amen to that.’

      Barbara wondered if it was Chrissie the vicar. Then there was a crashing sound, and all the warriors synchronised a turn of their heads in the opposite direction, to stare at Phyllis, whose knee had given way; she’d come hurtling down onto her mat. Hayley called, ‘I’m here, Phyllis. Everyone, please just sit down and take five.’

      Dutifully, the women had collapsed down and their gaze moved in perfect synchronicity back to the window. The young man had gone, and they were staring at a clean window and a thousand gleaming droplets of water. Yvonne leaned over to Barbara and whispered, ‘Who on earth was that?’

      Dr Natalie sat upright on her rug. ‘He’s the new odd-job man. He’s done the windows at the surgery. I think he’s from Milton Rogus.’

      ‘Mmm.’ The sound of pleasure came from the red-haired woman next to Pauline. ‘He can do my windows any time.’

      Hayley helped a loudly protesting Phyllis into a comfortable position and was fanning her with a sheet of paper. ‘I’ll make sure Kostas СКАЧАТЬ