Charlotte Charlington had never heard of Hambourne, but an unknown riverside town in middle England appealed to her for her new life and she hoped it would inspire her novel about Lottie Lincoln. She had no idea of Hambourne’s strange history or that she might end up in a novel herself.
Charlotte soon found the High Energy Studio at the Hambourne Leisure Centre, though some of the people going in didn’t look as if they had any energy. The Zumbournetics class with Holly promised low impact, Pilates inspired, static circuits for all the community. ‘Bring your baby or your Zimmer frame.’
While Charlotte was still job hunting she thought she should make the most of her free time and any opportunity to get to know the locals. It took courage for her to walk into a room full of strangers. Young women in leotards with babies strapped to their chests and old chaps with walking sticks each positioned themselves by a chair. An older woman motioned Charlotte to an empty chair beside her, then led the way to a walk in cupboard where they collected an assortment of gear; long stretchy bands, mini dumbbells, squishy balls and foam blocks.
‘First time? It’s great fun.’
Charlotte had hoped to remain anonymous in the busy class, but Holly made a beeline for her.
‘Any problems?’
Not any that Holly could sort out she thought to herself, but smiled and said. ‘Well I have no idea what I’m supposed to do, but apart from that…’
‘No heart conditions, joint problems, operations…’
‘I had my wisdom teeth out ten years ago.’
‘Good, good and how do you like to be called?’
‘Charlotte.’
‘Okay Charlie, welcome to the class.’
As Holly went off to fiddle with the temperamental music equipment the other lady leaned in to whisper ‘They have to be careful with health problems, especially after Dennis keeled over last month.’
‘Oh dear, dose she work us that hard, was he okay?’
‘No, stone dead. That’s why we’re fund raising for a defibrillator.’
Charlotte hoped here would be no deaths in class today, though it did give her another idea for a Lottie Lincoln case. People don’t just drop dead in a low impact exercise class, there must be a more sinister explanation.
The music blared out.
‘Marching on the spot, shoulders back, shoulder blades in your pockets, deep breath in as you raise your arms… now zip up from your pubic bone to your chin and exhale… open up that pelvis… step forward… Lottie, right foot, right foot darling not left’
Charlotte felt a hot flush coming on as she realised Holly was talking to her. She was having enough trouble working out whether she was supposed to be inhaling or exhaling.
‘Okay take up your bands… Charlie, pink band for beginners not the black. Margaret, under your knee not over…
Pick up your babies or your dumbbells. No Eddy, sit this one out. Easy option shoulder height, harder option reach right up…’
Charlotte thought the real Lottie in her book would be good at this, as well as being an ex army PE instructor, a fact she had just thought of, she also had a very sharp brain.
‘Okay take a drink break. Charlotte, where’s your water?’
Charlotte had assumed there would be a water dispenser.
‘You must have a bottle of water with you and drink at least a litre during the class. If you get dehydrated you will get cramp…’
A whole litre! Charlotte was relieved when they started to cool down, but she had enjoyed bouncing around to the music and realised her mind had been emptied of complicated thoughts. She felt suddenly lost when the class came to an end. Rehydration with a cup of coffee was in order and cake if they had any in the café.
Holly appeared at her side. ‘Well done, are you coming on Thursday?’
‘Twice a week? Oh yes.’
That would be something else to fill her week up. It was harder than she had imagined, living on her own in a town where she knew no one, going from a busy job and busy life to being an unemployed writer. She sat by herself at a table, nearby the young mothers and two young dads from the class were clustered together. Others must have rushed off to their busy lives.
‘Oh chocolate cake, wish I could indulge.’
The woman who had helped her in the class appeared by her table.
‘Shall I join you.’
‘Oh yes’ said Charlotte, pathetically glad, like a new girl at school.
‘Jenny, I’ve been coming for years. Are you new in Hambourne?’
‘Yes, since a couple of weeks ago.’
‘What brought you here?’
She groaned inwardly, that was the trouble with friendly people, they were naturally curious.
‘Oh er a change, getting away from it all.’
‘On your own?’
‘Yes, my daughter thinks I’m mad to move so far without a job to go to.’
‘Where did you work?’
‘At the airport.’
‘Which airport?’
The question took Charlotte by surprise, but of course she was a long way from London now.
‘Heathrow.’
‘Oh how glamourous and exciting,’
Her job wasn’t at all exciting and certainly not glamorous, but she realised she did miss it. However, she had no intention of revealing her actual job or much about her life.
‘There is a great buzz working there, but tell me about Hambourne, I literally stuck a pin in a map of England, got on a train and loved what I saw.’
‘It is indeed a lovely place, I left and came back again. Of course it is rather a strange town…’
You can read The Hambourne Chronicles in my collection Hallows and Heretics.
Times and Tides of a Beachwriter 