Chapter 48

Perched on the top step of the garden in the surprisingly warm sunshine, Hope wrapped her hands around her cup and watched as Marcus worked his way through his exercises.

"Morning, Hopey-Dopey." Shawna settled onto the step beside her, clutching at her own cup.

"Hopey-Dopey?" Hope didn't look away from where Marcus was flowing through his familiar sequences.

"What would you prefer? Pipsqueak?"

"Hopey-Dopey will do," she conceded, as graciously as she could. "Does he do this every day?"

"Before his run or after, yeah." Shawna nodded, slowly. "Except for this one time, last week, when I wouldn't let him out."

"I don't remember him being out of sorts last week." Hope looked puzzled for a moment. "I figured he'd get all uptight if he didn't get his exercise in."

"Oh, he got his exercise..." Shawna smiled broadly at the memory.

"Oh, please. You could at least wait until I've eaten."

"I should have eaten first, too. My jaw ached all day."

"Too much information." Hope got to her feet, her now empty cup swinging at her side. "Should I put something on for you, or is he taking his run on you this morning?"

"I'll get some toast later," Shawna said, distractedly, her eyes fixed on Marcus as he sped up through a series of tight spins.

"Right, whatever." Hope disappeared into the house. Shawna waited a few minutes more until he had left through the gate before going inside herself.

"Did you want another coffee?" she asked, passing Hope in the hall.

"I'll get it. You need to get dressed, we've got English at nine."

"Is it Thursday already?"

"Unless they've rescheduled Friday and I didn't get the memo..."

"Shit." Scurrying away, Shawna reappeared at the kitchen doorway, freshly showered and dressed, to find Marcus had returned.

"LOOK!" she squealed. "Size 10! I'm back in size 10 jeans!"

"Wow!" Hope took a long look with a smile. "So are you putting this down to the diet, or to the dance-mat?"

"Dance-mat," she declared, striking a pose against the door-jamb as Marcus smiled at the sight. "I cheat too much at the diet."

"And getting me to chip the machine so that it ran slow?" Marcus asked, with a grin.

"Utilisation of resources," she said, as Hope slipped past them.

"I've got to go finish my e-mail to Faith. We leaving at half-eight?"

"Sure." Shawna moved across to the kettle.

"See you later, Marcus." Hope brushed past him, and he nodded distractedly at her, before turning back to Shawna.

"You do look good." He tried to assure, seeing an unfamiliar expression on her face. "Not that you didn't last week, but..."

"Now if I could just shed those last four pounds, I'd be well away." She replied, after a pause.

"You're the same size as you were last year, now. You don't need to lose any more."

"Down below I'm back. I'm still uncomfortable in all my bras — I think I've gone up a cup-size."

"I still don't think you need to lose any more."

"Because I went up a cup-size?" she smiled, gently.

"You know that's not that important to me."

"You didn't show that last night."

"Princess, I love you. Everything physical is a bonus after that."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Of course!"

"It's just... I know sometimes you read what people want to hear and remember it..."

"This isn't one of those."

"I like sex, Marcus. It's important to me... do you really want me?"

"Physically?"

She nodded.

"With those legs?"

"I knew you were a leg man."

He smiled, stepping towards her, but she turned away, suddenly. "Is that why you look at Hope like that?"

"What?" He drew up short, confused, and she turned back quickly, catching a cup and knocking it to the floor.

"Fuck it!" she snapped, as the earthenware shattered, sending shards over the floor.

"It's alright." Marcus turned towards the cupboard in the corner. "I'll clean it up. You get to class."

"It's not alright." Shawna leant on the worktop, squeezing her eyes shut against the heat of tears behind her eyelids."

"It doesn't matter. It's just a cup," he pointed out, trying to smile to take the sting out of it.

"Just a cup." She nodded, after a moment. "Right. Of course. Just... I have to get to class." She turned, quickly, wiping at her eyes and ran off. When Hope appeared ten minutes later, Shawna had already left.

"Right. Are we all up and running?" Aiden asked, settling into the middle seat of the couch, controller at the ready. Marcus dropped into his own seat opposite, and Tony settled down at one end of the table. The three screens sat pointing out from the middle of the table where a small cluster of drinks bottles and beer-cans sat waiting.

"Looks good here." Tony nodded, after a moment, grasping his own controller with far less conviction. "You're sure you guys are going to go easy on me until I get the hang of this?"

"Of course," Aiden assured him in his gentle, lilting Irish accent, the insincerity dripping from his voice.

"Yep," Marcus confirmed more believably, as he settled into place. "I got drubbed by Hope too many times on this to not be considerate."

"Hope?" Aiden leant around the screen to stare at him. "You got beaten at Counter-Strike by a girl?"

"Yes." Marcus completely failed to notice the tone. "She's good at this."

"Yeah, but..."

"Forget it, Aiden." Tony smiled. "It's an equal-opportunity world these days."

"Yeah, they say that, but neither of you are equal-opportunity employers, are you?"

"Aiden, refusing to take it up the chuffer doesn't make mean I'm discriminating against you."

"Can't blame a guy for trying to guilt-trip you into it, can you?" he asked with a broad grin.

"Uh, yes," Tony noted. "Shit, someone just got me."

"One to me," Marcus chimed in, and for a while they all concentrated on the screens.