Me-Before-You-by-Jojo-Moyes

to stick with them? To help them through the depression? In sickness and in
health, and all that?
‘Another drink?’
‘Vodka tonic. Slimline tonic,’ I said, as he raised an eyebrow.
Patrick shrugged and headed to the bar.
I had started to feel a little guilty about the way we were discussing my
employer. Especially when I realized that he probably endured it all the time. It
was almost impossible not to speculate about the more intimate aspects of his
life. I tuned out. There was talk of a training weekend in Spain. I was only
listening with half an ear, until Patrick reappeared at my side and nudged me.
‘Fancy it?’
‘What?’
‘Weekend in Spain. Instead of the Greek holiday. You could put your feet up
by the pool if you don’t fancy the forty-mile bike ride. We could get cheap
flights. Six weeks’ time. Now you’re rolling in it … ’
I thought of Mrs Traynor. ‘I don’t know … I’m not sure they’re going to be
keen on me taking time off so soon.’
‘You mind if I go, then? I really fancy getting some altitude training in. I’m
thinking about doing the big one.’
‘The big what?’
‘Triathlon. The Xtreme Viking. Sixty miles on a bike, thirty miles on foot, and
a nice long swim in sub-zero Nordic seas.’
The Viking was spoken about with reverence, those who had competed
bearing their injuries like veterans of some distant and particularly brutal war.
He was almost smacking his lips with anticipation. I looked at my boyfriend and
wondered if he was actually an alien. I thought briefly that I had preferred him
when he worked in telesales and couldn’t pass a petrol station without stocking
up on Mars Bars.
‘You’re going to do it?’
‘Why not? I’ve never been fitter.’
I thought of all that extra training – the endless conversations about weight
and distance, fitness and endurance. It was hard enough getting Patrick’s
attention these days at the best of times.
‘You could do it with me,’ he said, although we both knew he didn’t believe it.