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shakes and cerealbars on the kitchen counter and felt her stomach rumble loudly. She had gone to the club without having dinner first. And she still weighed fifteen stone.
    The first two weeks of the diet sounded horrendous. Two shakes or cereal bars and then a healthy, nutritious dinner. But a quick flick through the diet booklet confirmed her suspicions that the dinner should be made up of lots of vegetables,fish and brown rice. No cheese, chocolate or anything else that tasted nice.
    In despair, Violet threw open the fridge door, grabbed the unhealthiest things she could find and ate them all. Cheese, butter, cream, chocolate and even a frozen cheesecake that hadn’t quite defrosted by the time she got round to devouring it. She ate until she felt sick.
    And she cried the whole time she was eating.She was never going to lose weight, she told herself. She just wasn’t strong enough.
    Edward nodded goodbye to the ghastly Trudie before leaving. He had made it. He had got through the aerobic session alive.
    The weigh-in didn’t hold any humiliation for him, after being weighed by the doctor a few days previously. He had taken her advice and looked up the class. OK, so it was all a bit girly buthe was prepared to give it a month. He tried not to think about the doctor’s words to him the other evening. He was fine. He wasn’t ill, after all. He tried not to remind himself how massive he felt in his tracksuit bottoms and how far his stomach was hanging over the waistband.
    Edward was impressed that the class included a workout. He just hadn’t realised quite how unfit he really was. OK,so fielding the boundary at cricket wasn’t exactly aerobic but he considered himself in a reasonable physical state even if he couldn’t run between the wickets.
    But he couldn’t fool himself any longer. Not having seen that psychotic bimbo Trudie bouncing around. She had barely broken out into a sweat while Edward felt as if he was having a mild coronary. He must have lost about half a stone alreadyin sweat. At least, it felt like it. His T-shirt was clinging to him, dripping wet. He felt revolting.
    He strode to his car, his head held high. He was fine. Nothing at all the matter with him. He could cope with this every week. It was only a workout for women, after all.
    He only briefly clutched his pounding chest before he let his hand drop. He glanced up and down the road to check nobodywas nearby. And then he threw up.
    As Maggie drove home, she tried to lift Lucy’s low spirits.
    ‘It wasn’t that bad,’ said Maggie, trying to put some life into her voice.
    ‘It was crap,’ muttered Lucy.
    Maggie steered the car around the roundabout. She was nearly seventeen stone. She was enormous. No wonder she felt so unwell most of the time.
    ‘I thought Trudie was nice,’ she added.
    ‘I thoughtshe was a right bitch,’ replied Lucy.
    So did I, agreed Maggie. But she didn’t say so.
    She was still in shock that Lucy had wanted to go with her. She had tried sneaking out of the house whilst Gordon was in the garden, saying something about a quick trip to an evening sale at Debenhams.
    But Lucy had picked up that she was lying and had begun to raise her voice while asking endless questionsabout where her mother was going.
    ‘Keep your voice down,’ Maggie had said, in a low tone. ‘I don’t want your father knowing.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘There’s a new diet club,’ said Maggie, trying to ignore Lucy’s groan. ‘I know, I know. Been there, done that. But I need to lose weight. So for God’s sake, don’t tell your dad where I’ve gone.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because he’ll say it’s a waste of time and money.’
    ‘Isit?’
    Maggie looked at her daughter. ‘Possibly, but I’m desperate, love.’
    Lucy looked at her for a while before saying, ‘OK. I won’t tell Dad – if you let me come with you.’
    Maggie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Really? Why?’
    ‘Look at me, Mum. I don’t think Cheryl Cole’s quaking in her shoes, is