That’s when I noticed the suitcase in the corner of the room, along with his coat. Of course; Mr. Gee can always count on the Geldrops’…
Maybe I was just destined to be the teacher, instead of the student… I remember when I was little, watching Mum in her training with her private instructor ‘Jim’ and saying ‘I want to be like him when I grow up’, and my Mum smiling, stroking my hair, and telling me that I can if I want to… She’d also used that as a reason why I should eat my vegetables and my greens, and most importantly, my carbohydrates…
But enough about my diet…
“You all set then?” I grumbled.
“Yup – that’s the spirit.” Marcus grinned, giving me a mock-punch on the arm.
I set off walking then, at an almost-sprint pace, until I got to the main exit; I couldn’t be bothered with climbing up to the grate, just for some cat to be sitting on it, like last time.
“Yo! Clementine! Wait up! Guy with a suitcase back here!” Marcus was yelling, some five yards back.
“I’m sorry – give me your case; it’ll be faster.” I took the case from him, so he had some chance of catching up.
The main exit came out, just behind the fire station, which was just on the other side of town, so about half-a-mile from my house – we’d be able to just take a taxi back, seeing as Marcus still needs to learn how to run fast…
With my training, he’ll either get really good, or he’ll wish that he’d never been born, or at least, wish that he’d never agreed to be trained by me.
The taxi drove pretty quickly, so quickly, in fact, that I didn’t even have time to daydream, so I wasn’t impressed; the taxi driver had to have kept up a constant speed of about 45 miles per hour. That would be 15 miles per hour over the speed limit!
I walked into the house to the smell of bacon and sausages, but I could also smell mushrooms and peppers – yuck!
“Mum?!” I yelled. “Dad?! We’re home!” I knew Mum would know about the ‘we’ part, but I wasn’t so sure about Dad…
When Mum saw Marcus, behind his back, she raised her eyebrows at me, and the ‘knowing’ look came onto her face. She’ll get used to him… hopefully.
“So, what’s your name, then?” Mum asked.
“Marcus, Miss.” He grinned.
“That’s missus, and you can call me Genevieve or Jenny for short.” Mum winked at him.
“Well there’s half-an-hour until supper’s ready; go and play children, Mummy’s busy in the kitchen.” She shooed us away.
“Call us when it’s ready please.” I said, and she nodded, then I led Marcus upstairs to the training room.
“This is where we do all our training – I want to see how fast you can go for half an hour on that treadmill there, and I’ll see if I can beat that.” I winked at him – he obviously hadn’t seen me run yet.
He set of running, and I set off running, but after five minutes, he was soon out of breath, and there’s just me there, running, filing my nails, and chatting away to him; Dad was standing in the doorway, laughing his head off.