The Old Girls' Network. Judy Leigh

all purposes from the Guides’ meetings to the local am-dram group’s twice-yearly productions, usually an Ayckbourn comedy and a pantomime. The sash windows were rotten, the paint flaking and the window panes dirty. Inside, in a little cloakroom, several women were sitting on narrow benches, taking off their shoes and wriggling bare toes. One woman stood in the centre of the space: a petite woman in her forties, dark glossy hair tied loosely on the top of her head. She opened her arms in a gracious gesture.

      ‘I’ve put the heating on full. All the radiators will be lovely and warm in a few moments. It’s quite cool today, so I thought we’d feel the benefit of the ancient central heating system.’

      Pauline grasped the woman’s hand, smiling. ‘Hayley. Nice to see you.’

      The woman hugged Pauline. ‘I’m so glad you could come. And who’s this?’

      Pauline stepped back and waved her sister forward, but Barbara was there already, clutching Hayley’s hand and shaking it firmly.

      ‘Barbara Harvey. Miss Harvey. Pauline’s sister. I’ve come to try the yoga.’

      ‘Welcome. I’m Hayley Choy. Please take your shoes off and come into the hall. I’ll find you a spare mat.’

      Barbara turned. Pauline was in conversation with a woman she called Dizzy, who was waving her hands and whispering something about someone being in the family way. Barbara frowned: it obviously wasn’t Dizzy, she was too slim and too old – at least forty. Barbara thought she was a little brash and her hair was far too lurid for a woman of her age, her fringe a stripy concoction of red, orange and burgundy; she wondered why Pauline seemed so at ease.

      Barbara felt a light pressure on her shoulder and saw a round faced woman smiling at her, her cheeks dimpled, with a wide mouth and good teeth, a cascade of black curls, slightly greying at the temples. Barbara stared into the twinkling hazel eyes and glowered. ‘Hello?’

      ‘Hello – you’re Pauline’s sister, Barbara. I’m Chrissie Drake, the local vicar. It’s lovely to meet you.’

      Barbara noticed the vicar didn’t let go of her hand and didn’t stop grinning. She waited for the obligatory phrase about becoming one of Chrissie’s flock while she was staying in Winsley Green. Barbara had no intention of visiting the church. She made her lips into a thin line.

      ‘I don’t do God.’

      Chrissie Drake smiled. ‘What’s important is that God is always ready to “do” us. But never mind that now. I’m all revved up to do yoga. Revved? Get it?’

      Chrissie Drake chuckled. Barbara remained disinterested, but the vicar didn’t seem to notice, her voice full of enthusiasm. ‘I must introduce you to everyone after the session.’

      Barbara felt a hand on her back, guiding her to the open doorway. She stood firm: she wasn’t about to be shepherded inside by a woman of God. Chrissie took no notice, bringing Barbara’s attention to the people in the room.

      ‘There’s Dr Natalie – she and her husband are GPs – she has some good news – the patter of tiny feet is due in September, I believe. Over there is Yvonne from the village Post Office.’

      Barbara gazed at the doctor, a young woman with dark hair who had just relaxed in a lying down position, and then at an older blonde woman with rosy cheeks who was unrolling her mat. Chrissie kept talking and waving her hand.

      ‘Over there is Dulcie and there’s her neighbour Phyllis. As yet, we haven’t found a way to bring them together, but I’m sure God has something up His sleeve.’

      Barbara looked from one angry-looking elderly lady to the other, both busy at opposite ends of the room, rolling out mats and staring furiously at each other and then away, and she shrugged. ‘They hate each other?’

      Chrissie nodded. ‘They don’t buy into the Love Thy Neighbour idea, shall we say.’

      ‘What is wrong with them?’

      ‘Cat problems, mostly.’ Chrissie shrugged. ‘Dulcie’s cats, the Feral Peril, are a bit of a local liability. And Phyllis and Dulcie used to go to school together – they were best friends but time has changed all that.’

      ‘How petty,’ Barbara muttered. ‘I’ll never remember all these names anyway.’

      Hayley appeared at the door; her face serene. ‘Please come into the space. We’re ready to start.’

      Barbara took the blue mat offered to her and marched to the back, sitting down. She stared around – the older ladies, clearly well past eighty-years-old, one wiry and the other plumper, were still eyeballing each other viciously. They certainly wouldn’t be good recruits for a hike around the hills with her. Barbara wondered what these old ladies managed to achieve in yoga. Phyllis was propped up with cushions and Dulcie moved sharply but with deliberate effort.

      She glanced at the yoga teacher who was writing something down on a piece of paper, and the young doctor, who appeared to be asleep. Barbara couldn’t remember either of their names. Then at the front, there was Pauline and the woman with orange and purple hair, whom Barbara knew instantly that she wouldn’t like. On one side of her was Chrissie, the crazy vicar, who was sitting cross-legged, her eyes squeezed, shut: she appeared to be praying. The blonde woman on the other side of Barbara glanced over and winked.

      ‘I’m Yvonne.’

      Barbara nodded curtly. ‘From the Post Office. I know.’

      She decided she couldn’t be bothered to introduce herself. The yoga teacher, Hayley, was playing some soothing music on a portable CD player and everyone was now lying down. Barbara stared around her, at the filthy windows and the grubby finger-marked walls that clearly needed a coat of paint.

      Hayley had lit a joss stick, so Barbara coughed loudly to make it clear that the smoke was an irritant. Hayley beamed across at her and gestured that she should lie down. Barbara frowned: she thought she was here to do yoga, not to go to sleep, but she leaned back and closed her eyes. The music was reminiscent of waves ebbing and flowing and there were soft sounds, the chattering of dolphins or the gentle calls of gulls. Barbara breathed out and let the music wash over her, the sickly-sweet smell of incense, the warm heat from the metal radiators, and she began to drift. It was as if she was floating, her limbs numb, her mind at peace.

      Suddenly there was a silence, no sound at all; the stillness jolted her awake and she opened her eyes. Everyone else was standing up, stretching long arms into the air and Barbara sat bolt upright, about to ask crossly why no one had woken her, but Hayley’s sweet voice chimed, ‘Nice to have you with us again, Barbara. Take your time, don’t rush. Join us when you’re ready.’

      Pauline turned and smiled across at her and Barbara scuttled to her feet, making a short sound to show she was exasperated at being allowed to sleep through the beginning of the class. Hayley resumed the session, lifting her arms in the air and sweeping them down to her sides. Everyone else was doing the same, Phyllis still seated on her mat propped with cushions. Barbara copied, wafting her arms around as fast as possible, thinking the whole thing reminiscent of primary school PE but with ill-fitting borrowed jogging bottoms instead of baggy navy knickers. She did her best to follow everyone else, but it all felt somewhat pointless. There was an exercise where everyone sat down and twisted round, and Hayley ran around the hall putting more cushions behind Dulcie and Phyllis. Barbara wondered why they chose to take the class: their bones kept cracking, a sort of stereo percussion popping, and at one point she was sure Dulcie passed wind.

      Hayley’s soothing voice pulled Barbara from her thoughts.

      ‘We’re going to revisit Warrior Two now. So, take up the first position. Stand in Tadasana, exhale, step forward so that your feet are about three or four feet apart.’

      Barbara had no idea what to do, so she copied Yvonne. Hayley moved softly around the room, helping Phyllis into position.

      ‘Now raise your arms parallel to the floor and reach out to the sides.’

      Hayley appeared discreetly next