her warm watchingfrom the freezing sidelines. Sandy was so impressed she promised tojoin in.

The two threw themselves into their newfitness regimes, constantly comparing performance and geeing eachother up during lazy spells. Both lived only a few miles from theirworkplaces so walking back and forth became a daily occurrence.

Joanna improved her eating habits althoughnothing was off limits. Cake, biscuits, ice cream, pizza, crispsand, of course, Mr. Kipling’s apple pies were still on the menu butonly in moderation.

The weight came off gradually. Unlike inprevious attempts when drastic measures like near-starvation onlyhad short-term gains, this time she tweaked her routine to build itinto her lifestyle.

This change was sustainable for Joanna whostarted receiving compliments from friends and family.

Nat, the security guard in the block whereshe lived, certainly noticed.

“How many miles today?”

“Did eight in all, Nat. Lost two stones intwo months. Still a long way to go but I’m determined to reach 10stone.”

“Keep it up and you’ll soon have GeorgeClooney as a Facebook friend.”

“How do you know he isn’t already?”

At 29 Nat was ten years younger than Joanna.When not on duty he was always in the building’s gym and therewards of hours of pumping iron showed distinctively under aform-fitting uniform.

Always pleasant and sometimes flirty, Joannawas not sure whether he was genuinely interested in her or not. Heseemed to have a rapport with all the women in the block no matterwhat age. Men too, so maybe it was just wishful thinking on herpart.

“If you’re going into a toy-boy relationship,just remember that maturity wise he is 10 years younger than hisactual years.”

“What do you mean, Sandy?”

“He may be 29 but when it comes to maturityhe is only 19. All men are like that, trust me.”

“You’ve got a point. They never really growup, do they?”

Sandy’s acrimonious split with her partnerhad turned into hostility to men generally. Nat, she insisted, wasa no-go area.

“He’s too pretty, buff and flirty, Jo. Trustme, steer clear of toy-boy relationships.”

Sandy was still a good-looking woman at 42.Long legs and trim waist beneath a bundle of red hair that framed abutton nose and full crimson lips, always got her noticed. Maleattention was never a problem, but so badly hurt was she from thesplit with Louis’ father that all advances from men were swiftlyrebuked.

One over-persistent admirer in a bar inMoorgate left hobbling after feisty Sandy kneed him in aparticularly delicate spot.

As Joanna continued to walk everywhere, theweight steadily dropping off, an impromptu fan club built up. Theroad sweeper always had a cheery word, the postman accused her oftraining to take his job and construction workers invited her tojoin in their tea breaks.

The following year Joanna was two months awayfrom her fortieth birthday and down to 11 stones. Determined to bea perfect 10 in a size 10 and weighing 10 stones by her birthday inJune, she made the bold step of asking Nat if they could traintogether for a while.

By now he was showing more than a passinginterest, but Joanna, mindful of Sandy’s advice, dismissed theadvances

“I’m bursting to settle down and have kids,Sandy. Biological clock is ticking away. No Friends With Benefitssituation here. Anyway, Nat’s still a horny kid. I heard he’s beenseeing a Polish girl and a Virgin Air stewardess in ourblock.”

“Bet she’s not a virgin anymore! Don’t eventhink about giving him a chance Jo. A dog like all the others.”

Sandy’s red locks seemed to glow like abeacon when she went into a man-hate rant. Joanna always found away of making her click out of it.

“I think you’re going barking mad Sandy.”

Joanna heeded Sandy’s warnings, resolutelyresisting Nat’s charm.

She felt great. All the months of powerwalking and curbing her wayward eating habits were paying off.

She was just over 10 stones after regularworkouts with Nat who was still keen for a romance. Tempted as shewas, Nat would never tick all her boxes. Apart from the age factor,he really was immature and after initial pleasantries had littlemeaningful to say. Joanna wanted someone who could hold aconversation that did not involve reality TV contestants, sport andPlayStation.

He was also extremely vain, spending moretime and money on grooming, waxing and preening than Joanna andSandy put together.

“Nat is the Gok Wan of security men,” Sandyjoked. “If he was presenting ‘How to Look Good Naked’ he wouldn’thave anyone in the studio, just himself.”

He also seemed content with being a muscledsecurity man for the rest of his life, possibly living well off hisbetter-paid partner.

Sandy was right, he’s totally unsuitable.

Oozing with confidence from the weight loss,hair freshly styled and wardrobe bulging with the latest designeritems, Joanna now had more options. Men at work asked her out. Eventhe married ones.

Construction site workers whistled and madesexist remarks – which she treated with disdain but secretly loved.Approaches for dates became an almost daily occurrence. But no onefitted the bill. The few she went out with were not quite right.Internet matching failed too.

As all her former school mates were turning40 at the same time, Joanna reasoned that someone would have a bigbirthday party which would effectively be another schoolreunion.

Sure enough, Alice Kirkham - one of thefriendliest girls from school - sent out an invitation on Facebookfor a barbecue at her house in Wanstead. Everyone from the reunionwas invited, including Gary Billings, Katie Thompson and TheCronies.

Joanna lived on home-made soup, salads andfruit, walked endlessly and drank gallons of water to help fill herup in the week leading up to Alice’s party. Stomach grumblingthroughout, she was determined to hit the magic mark.

With a scream of delight she jumped off thescales. All the hard work and sacrifice had paid off. She showered,got Sandy to help with her hair, carefully applied make-up andslipped into a tight, white cotton dress and white cardigan.

“You look good girl,” Sandy purred. “KimKardashian’s body double.”

“Thanks Sandy. You’re looking great too afterall that power walking. I’d say you could be Nicole Kidman’sdouble.”

“I’d take her bank balance any day, but notthe fame. How could we go shopping at Westfield Stratfordotherwise?”

“True, but if you had Kidman’s money it wouldbe strictly Bond Street my friend.”

Nat would accompany her strictly for eyecandy purposes although he thought this was the start of theromance. Bulging biceps

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