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“Who cares what Jane Fonda says? Guys decide what sexy is.” Courtney frowned. She had been getting into that feminist junk recently, and hated when I talked like that. I decided to change the subject. “So what brought this on?” I asked.Courtney bounced over to the couch and plopped down beside me. “So you know how I’m working in Dr. Clayton’s office on weekends?”“Yeah...”“Because totally I want to be a physical therapist?”“Yeah...”“Well on Wednesday, we went to a gymnastics class at the Olympic camp in Brownsville, you know the one on the way to the lake?”“Yeah...”“I guess Dr. Clayton goes out there every month or so, because gymnastics is a really high impact sport, and the girls get hurt sometimes.”“Yeah...”“And I went along this time, because Dr. Clayton totally supports me and says I’m a big help.”“Yeah...”“And there was this girl there ... Oh my God Greg. She is awesome!” Courtney had a faraway look in her eyes now. “She’s tiny, but she has these incredible muscles. She can do. We will be no more than an hour."Nothing happened. They emerged from the shop into the daylight, and turned automatically downhill. Archdeacon Street was empty as usual, but at least it was still there, and so was Ethel, clinging to his arm and striding out at his side. "There, you see? Nothing happened to you. Here we are, outside. I said you were a complete fraud. Mister Mystery Man! I'll wager you don't even know your way around Staunchbury."They had reached the end of the street. Here was the alleyway between the leaning brick walls. He toyed with a half-baked scheme to wrench his arm free, to dash down the alley and escape in his car, then he realised that today his car was in the multi-storey car park in the town centre, in the opposite direction.And Ethel turned left, toward the town centre. At any moment, they would come out of this narrow footpath beside the church, and they would be in the market square, bustling with Saturday shoppers. Full of Claire and her mother."I love.
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