We Met in December. Rosie Curtis

us do yoga with a side order of military-style barked instructions. Now I’m standing beside my mat wondering what exactly I’m expected to do.

      We start off lying down, and it all seems very restful and soothing. But the next thing I know we’re on our sides doing something with our legs that’s making me want to cry. I’m not the only one. Just as we shift positions, the baby starts screaming at the top of his lungs, and there’s a brief – but oh God, much appreciated – pause as his mother hisses an apology and gathers him up and exits, trailing muslin cloths and water bottles, her yoga mat unravelling behind her. I eye the clock. Another half an hour to go and then I can escape.

      ‘Keep those heels together. We want to feel those glutes engaging,’ she says, cheerfully.

      My glutes feel like they’ve been set on fire and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sit down again. This is torture.

      It’s possible it’ll go down in history as the longest half hour of my life. I’ve seen Pilates classes before, and I always thought they looked pretty gentle – like exercise classes for people who can’t be bothered getting all sweaty. Except now I’m lying face down on the floor with my arms by my sides, doing what looks like the tiniest little movement. I wait until the instructor has passed by me and flop my arms down onto the mat, and lie there quietly, like roadkill.

      15th January

      Next morning, I wake up with the alarm and sit up with a yelp of pain.

      Last night, as we’d walked home Becky had said, cheerfully, ‘You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow.’

      Bloody hell she wasn’t joking.

      ‘You all right?’

      I bump into Alex as he’s coming out of the bathroom, wrapped in a grey dressing gown. He’s towelling his hair and looking amused.

      ‘No I am not all right. Becky took me to a torture chamber last night and now I can’t actually walk, and I’ve got three meetings in a row this morning.’

      ‘You need to come for a walk to loosen yourself up. You free on Friday afternoon?’

      I nod. ‘Ow.’

      ‘It hurts to nod?’

      Stupidly, I nod again. ‘Apparently. Ow. Anyway, yes I am free. Well, I’m working, but we all get Friday afternoons off to work from home, so … as long as I catch up over the weekend, I think that’s fair enough.’

      Alex looks at me, one eyebrow cocked slightly.

      I press my lips closed. God, I can’t half go on. ‘Yes.’

      ‘Excellent. I’m free at one. Want to meet me here and we can go for a wander?’