Marathon Man.

"You can do it.. you will do it.."

Luke had faltered momentarily, staggered blindly for a few crucial
yards, almost lost faith in his ability to complete the gruelling
twenty-six mile course. But then, from somewhere deep within himself,
he'd summoned up that extra reserve of courage, of staying power, to
speed up and ignore what his body was trying so desperately hard to
tell him: stop! Maybe it had been the so-called pain barrier? He'd
heard the phrase often enough, but he'd never experienced it before. He
never wanted to again, either.

And now that he'd broken through it.. he felt an exhilarating pulse of
adrenaline course through his straining body, urging him on to yet
greater effort. He could do it, yes he could! He would. He'd make it
over that distant finishing line unaided, if he had to crawl on his
hands and knees: there was a very special prize waiting for him - just
for him - when he did so. He pounded on, every smack of his sole
against the unforgiving asphalt jarring through his body. He wasn't
bothered now.

"Gorn! Gertcha, my son!"

Luke glanced up through the sweat to see an old lad grinning down at
him from the balcony of the flats; waving a stained old teacup, urging
him on.

"Thanks," Luke mouthed and padded resolutely onwards. They'd told him
about this carnival atmosphere, the crowds, the wonderful spirit: how
many brave souls completed the course masquerading as pantomime horses,
dragons, clowns. Many would be sponsored, too, gritting their teeth and
suffering bravely in some infinitely more noble cause than his own -
for Luke's motives were entirely selfish. Like so many other things, it
had all started at a party..

"Bet you couldn't!" Nicky shouted. "Never! You couldn't even run for
the bus!"

"Don't you be so sure," Luke nodded sagely. "I'm tougher than I
look."

"Ruddy good job too," Barry laughed.

"I might run it," Luke persisted. "Given some sort of incentive,
naturally."

"What about.." Nicky came close to whisper confidentially into his
ear.

"Definitely!" Luke exclaimed, though his eyebrows had shot
skywards.

Luke had always fancied Nicky: most people did. They'd known each other
for years, even been out a couple of times. But, with the natural ebb
and flow of teenage relationships, she'd ended up with Barry while he,
Luke, had reached his early twenties free and single.

Barry, the lucky so-and-so, had been Luke's best mate since their early
schooldays. They'd shared most things over the years, though that
largesse hadn't extended to Nicky's favours, and Luke didn't dare
believe what he'd just heard.

"Well, if you're serious," Luke laughed.

"What about?" Barry asked, frowning, and Nicky pulled him close to
share her little secret.

"Oh, right!" Barry laughed heartily before swilling down the last of
his pseudo-Pilsner "lager". "You'll be disappointed, though. Luke'll
never manage it."

"What if I do, then?" Luke asked quizzically. "What if she meant it
after all?"

"If you can finish that distance, fair enough. I'll get the old
Polaroid down and record every sordid moment."

"You flipping won't!" Luke assured him. He was beginning to believe
it.. no, this rash promise could only be the result of too much wine.
Couldn't it?"

"You certainly won't!" Nicky agreed before grabbing Luke's arm,
pressing her firm rump against him and prodding her partner furiously
in the chest. "A whole hour alone, I said. It'll be private, won't it?"
She reached up and kissed Luke for rather too long, though Barry took
it all in good humour.

Nothing more was said about their "arrangement" that night, and
everyone dispersed noisily after the party. Luke deliberately refused
the offer of a lift home, preferring to walk and let his head clear in
the icy night air. There was only one thing on his mind: had Nicky been
serious? He decided reluctantly that it must have been the alcohol
talking. Then again, she just might fancy him - they'd shared a few
clinches that Barry didn't know about. Hands had wandered.. they'd
never gone too far, admittedly, but what if she'd been wanting
something more all along, as he had? What if she was growing just a
little tired of fidelity? What if Nicky and Barry actually shared a
more open relationship than he'd suspected? What if, if, if.. ?

Luke worked near to Nicky's office, and an "accidental" after-work
meeting wasn't too difficult to arrange. Nicky accepted the offer of a
quick relaxing drink readily enough, and when Luke brought up the
inevitable subject she broke into a fruity giggle.

"Of course I was serious!" she whispered over her Chardonnay. "Want me
to draw up a contract?"

"What if I said 'yes'?"

"I'll have one for you at the weekend," she said with a sly grin.
"You're going to Mo's on Saturday?"

"I am now, yeah!"

"There you go!" Nicky waved the official-looking "contract" under
Luke's nose. "I, Nicola Formby, spinster of this parish, do freely
contract to spend one hour with Luke Johnson at any private place of
his choosing. The first party shall willingly accede to any intimate
suggestion (within reason) that the second party shall make.." Luke
read on, his eyes glazing over. He'd seen enough, but.. there was still
someone else to consider.

"Have you seen this?" Luke asked his friend suspiciously.

"Sure. I'm not fussed, because you'll no more complete those twenty-six
miles than fly to the ruddy moon."

"Right. Give it here." Luke put his glass down and, in the midst of the
heaving throng, fished out a pen. "There," he said to Nicky. "Your
turn."

"Fair enough." Nicky accepted the challenge, adding her own florid
signature in the correct space under Luke's. For the firat time, Luke
really believed that it was actually going to happen. And, if Nicky
thought that he'd chicken out at the last minute, she was in for a
surprise.

Fulfilling his part of the bargain, however, wasn't going to be so
easy. Luke bought himself the necessary training equipment and forced
himself to adopt a rigid schedule. Early morning street-pounding and
occasional painful injury became an integral part of Luke's extended
day. Ignoring the taunts of his disbelieving friends, he became ever
fitter and more confident as the big day approached: and, when it
finally arrived, Luke gave himself a decent chance of achieving his
goal.

Lining up in the joking, colourful mass, watching the genuine athletes
hare away ahead, his mouth had been dry. Once off, however, weaving
between the no-hopers and the fancy-dress costumes, he'd settled into
his routine. And, if he could just make those last few miles, all that
slog and effort would have been worth it..

Nicky and Barry would be there near the finish, as they'd promised to
watch him come in - though Barry, to the last, had constantly rubbished
his chances of making it more than half-way round. Luke plodded on,
keeping the rhythm going, eyes fixed on the exhausted lad in the lion
suit ahead. He could, he would do it..

Sure enough, as Luke neared the finishing line, he caught a glimpse of
Nicky in the crowd ahead. She was willing him on, shrieking her
encouragement; but surely, he thought, she must realise that he'd be
claiming his prize?

Barry was there, too, roaring and clapping wildly. It didn't make much
sense, but Luke was way beyond trying to unravel the mystery. Just a
few hundred yards to go.. the erotic fantasy flashed through his mind,
diverting his attention from the road ahead.

"Aargh!" The sudden jabbing pain shot upwards, and Luke almost lost his
balance. Whether it had been unexpected cramp or some unseen
obstruction beneath his foot, he didn't know. He only knew that he had
to make that line at all costs. Limping painfully, he continued.. but
ever more slowly. Walking, staggering, rather than running, he crossed
the line to tumultuous applause and was helped aside to collapse.

Before he knew it, Nicky and Barry were kneeling beside him, clapping
his heaving shoulders.

"I did it! I only ruddy did it!" Luke gasped.

"Hats off to you, mate. I never thought you'd finish! I owe you a pint
or two, eh?"

"You said it. I feel as if I've been trampled by a herd of elephants,
mate. I could sleep for a fortnight, and probably will."

"What about our contract?" Nicky asked, chuckling. "Have you booked a
hotel?"

"A hotel? Why?" Luke gasped, supporting his aching head in his
hands.

"Only fifty-seven minutes left," Nicky whispered, examining her watch
carefully.

"What?" Luke croaked.

"The bet. You won it."

"I know. Tell me about it in a week. I might be feeling human again by
then."

"A week?" Nicky purported to sound astonished. "Didn't you look at the
small print? One hour, it specified."

"Exactly!" Luke sighed. "You're not pulling out now?"

"Of course not!" Nicky laughed, winking at Barry. "You get one hour to
indulge your wildest fantasies all right. Oh.. addendum six - that's
one hour starting from the exact minute you cross the finishing line.
Ready?"