Prime Time by Jane Wenham-Jones

Author:Jane Wenham-Jones
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Accent Press
Published: 2011-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

‘Just give me a call.’ That’s what Cal had said too after he’d emailed today’s filming schedule. Any problems – just call. Much as I liked the idea of hearing his voice, I couldn’t quite bring myself to ring up to ask what I could possibly wear in the way of gym clothes that wouldn’t spell total humiliation.

Charlotte, who regarded the gym with the same disdain she reserved for teetotallers and anyone on a diet, was no help at all, and Stanley just said, ‘Oh my God!’ again when I told him I was going to be given a work out.

I’d had a quick peer in the sports shop and not only did everything cost a fortune but it was all in that sort of slinky, shiny black Lycra that was guaranteed to make someone like me look even more of a lard arse.

In the end I’d put on my least clapped-out pair of jogging bottoms, a white T-shirt and my heftiest bra.

‘You don’t want to go getting joggers’ nipple, love,’ had been Charlotte’s idea of support while she was munching her way through my biscuits that morning and laughing as I sipped at my mango juice with raw carrot.

Now, lying on the floor with a series of little pads and wires attached to me, I began to wish I’d started my starvation regime a lot earlier – like about 1986.

‘I am going to carry out a bioelectrical impedance analysis,’ Nicola, the scary-looking personal trainer, had announced sternly.

‘A BIA,’ she added importantly, for the benefit of the camera, ‘will pass a small electrical charge through your body and will determine how much of you is fat.’ Had I imagined it or had she put a particular emphasis on the last word? ‘And how much is water, muscles and lean tissue.’

She herself had no breasts and arms like steel cords. ‘To do the calculation, we need to programme in your gender, age, and weight. You haven’t got a pacemaker, have you?’

The thought of my fat ratio being read out to the entire film crew plus Cal was making me cringe already.

‘Does it hurt?’ I asked feebly, wondering if I could get out of it by claiming a low pain threshold and then fainting.

Nicola gave a booming laugh. ‘Oh, you won’t feel a thing. Well, not until I get you doing crunches anyway.’ She cackled sadistically and everyone else laughed too.

I looked up at the circle of grinning faces. Being spread-eagled on the floor with a camera hovering above my stomach, a mike close to my nose, and Cal and Russ guffawing in the doorway wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind when I’d signed up to improve my self-image.

‘Right!’ said Nicola, flexing her biceps. ‘We are looking at 29 per cent body fat. This puts you just inside the acceptable limits but is pushing at the boundaries as far as risk assessment is concerned.’

‘Could you analyse that for us?’ said Cal. ‘What does it mean in layman’s terms?’

Nicola looked down at me disapprovingly.

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