A WALK IN THE PARK

"Twenty-nine..." Matt pulled himself towards his knees for the final sit-up. "Thirty!"

- A short story by Jane Casey

Ouch. Every muscle was burning. He usually flipped over for 30 push-ups next, but he allowed himself a rest first. The park was busy in the spring sunshine: young mothers pushing buggies, elderly men deep in conversation, dog walkers.

"Bella, NO."

He heard a frantic scamper before a springer spaniel slid to a stop in front of him. She sat bolt upright, one paw raised, her tail thumping.

"Hello, again." Matt tickled the dog under her chin. She leaned into his hand, eyes half-closed.

"I'm so sorry." The owner was already undoing the lead she wore slung across her body. She hooked it to the dog's harness.

"Come on, Bella."

"We have to stop meeting like this." Matt smiled. "Holly, isn't it?"

"You remembered."

She didn't say that like it was a good thing, Matt noted.

"I have that kind of mind. And it was only three weeks ago." And I've been thinking about you ever since. He'd thought about her fair hair, long eyelashes, the freckles across the bridge of her nose. She was small, with a neat figure. Intelligent grey eyes.

"I haven't seen you around since."

So she'd been looking for him. He got to his feet, suddenly hopeful again.

"I've been away."

Bella was staring at him, refusing to move. Holly unclipped the lead and threw a ball into the distance. He was forgotten as Bella raced after it, and Holly turned to follow her.

"It's work. I'm too busy. And it's hard to find the right person."

"Tell me about it. I'm trying to pick up women in the park, so..."

"Is that why you're here?"

"I was exercising." He looked down at himself: an ancient T-shirt, disgraceful shorts ripped along one seam. "I wasn't planning on asking anyone out."

He'd kick himself if he didn't say something.

'Your dog has brought us together twice now. It feels like fate. Will you go out with me sometime?'