Twist Of Fate

Fifteen

CHLOE

Harry turns to me, his scowl replaced with an expression of mild intrigue. "What?"

"This membership card is still valid! It's got no photo, only a name! We can use it to get into that sports centre!"

He pulls his lip into a snarl. "I'm not exactly in the mood for lifting weights today. Got other things on my mind. You know, like not getting caught by the police." He practically spits this last part, but I am too excited at having come up with this idea to take much notice.

"I'm not talking about using the gym," I explain, breathlessly. "We can just use the showers! We can get clean!"

"And you don't think that might look a bit odd if we rock up looking and smelling like shit, use the showers and then fuck off?"

"Alright, so we can have a quick swim or something!" I beam, refusing to let his demeanour ruin my excitement, because I know this is a fantastic plan that cannot fail.

"And how am I going to get in?" he asks slowly. "Considering you only have one guest membership card, and it belongs to a woman?"

"Well, if anyone asks, I'll say I'm thinking of joining with you." The words fall out of my mouth so easily, as though I have planned this all out, when in fact I am just making it up as I go along.

"And if they want to take my details to put on their system? If my face is already all over the national news because I'm wanted for murder, and someone recognises me from the TV screen above the treadmills?"

He is determined to find a flaw in my plan.

"We don't know that it has even made the national news," I reason. "And if it has, how likely is it that someone working on the reception desk in the leisure centre of some sleepy little Devon town is going to think that a wanted murderer from one of the most deprived areas of London has just turned up at seven o'clock in the morning to enquire about membership?"

For once he is lost for words.

"Look, let's not overthink this," I say, getting to my feet and picking up my bag. "Let's just give it a try. You never know, you might get a hot shower and a swim out of it."

"I haven't got any swimming shorts," he replies, a little petulantly, but as he is throwing this argument down he is climbing to his feet and trotting after me as I begin to walk across the middle of the park towards the leisure centre.

"Can't you wear a pair of boxers or something? It's not like the place will be crowded. No one is going to see you. We can be in and out in no time."

I am charging forward across the grass now, focussed on my destination and determined to follow this through. My triumph yesterday with the escape from London has given me a massive boost in confidence, and the false illusion that I can do anything. Harry offers no further protestation but walks in silence a couple of paces behind me until we reach the entrance.

"Wait, let's plan -" he begins, but I ignore him and approach the heavy glass door, waiting for it to slide open. When it does, Harry shuffles in awkwardly behind me, looking fixedly at the floor and exuding suspicion.

The foyer is empty of people and staff. In one corner are a couple of tub chairs, a small low table displaying a few issues of some sort of fitness magazine and a large pot plant with rubbery-looking green leaves. Pictures of lithe, supple athletes are displayed on the walls alongside a couple of posters advertising various energy drinks and meal replacement shakes. Straight ahead of us is a curved reception desk that is free from clutter, and on the wall behind is a small display of various types of swimming and workout equipment, ranging from bikinis to goggles, water bottles to sweatbands, towels to tennis balls. To the right is a set of glass double doors presumably leading to the changing rooms, pool and various other activities. I nudge Harry to walk into the changing rooms, and mutter under my breath, "Go straight through, there's no one even here. I'll meet you in the pool."