Page 9 of The Happiness Project

The waiter appears at the table and we all flick through the menu as if we don’t come here all the time and we don’t already know exactly what we want.

‘I’ll have the sea bass,’ says Peter and I order the same. I love my pasta but after all the bread and biscuits this week, I’m not sure I can face any more carbs. It doesn’t seem to be bothering Charlie or Patty, who both opt for pizzas.

‘As good as that looks,’ I say when the food arrives, ‘I’m not sure I’d have anywhere to put it after the buy-one-get-one-free biscuit frenzy we’ve been having all week.’

‘Oh, Charlie is building a little bunker to keep his in,’ says Peter, patting Charlie’s rounded tummy. It’s said affectionately but I know that no one likes to have a bit of extra weight pointed out in public and I spot Charlie flinching and doing a double-take of the Prosciutto Funghi Feast in front of him.

‘Wouldn’t that be the best thing ever invented?’ says Patty, who is still high as a kite and suffering no guilt whatsoever about her food choices today. ‘To be able to just tuck away all the impact of food you shouldn’t really eat in a little separate bunker? Rather than getting fat, the bunker would just get bigger.’

‘It could be like a wheelie suitcase that you drag around with you,’ Peter adds. ‘Your body stays slim but you move from a carry-on to an excess baggage warning.’

Again, he’s joking and so is Patty but Charlie is beginning to look uncomfortable. He picks at the topping of his pizza but leaves the crust — and I know he loves a crust.

‘I think you might have been right,’ he says to me. ‘That was a bit much. But this is my last hooray — the fitness regime starts tomorrow.’

‘Really? I might join you — what are you thinking?’ I ask.

A discussion about the pros and cons of various exercise options ensues.

1. Running — easy to get started but too hard on the knees and exhausting

2. Swimming — better for the knees but boring and you have to get into a swimming costume before you’ve lost all the flab — which seems to miss the point of exercise

3. Weights — too many testosterone-fuelled Schwarzeneggers mocking your puny efforts to lift 2 kg

4. Squash — way too fast and it really hurts if the ball hits you

That last point was made by me remembering my one and only attempt at the game with my ex-husband. As I now know he was in the full throes of an affair when we played, I do wonder whether he did it on purpose.

‘The key to exercise is consistency,’ says Peter with a lean person’s complacency. ‘If you don’t enjoy it, you won’t keep it up and you’ll get nowhere. Don’t do what other people do or what some social media post says is “guaranteed” to lose the flab — just do any activity that you enjoy and do it regularly.’

It’s very rare that a serious point is made during any conversation between Charlie, Patty and I, so we’re struck dumb for a few moments.

‘So what do you enjoy?’ asks Peter to his stunned audience.

‘Food,’ replies Patty, finishing every inch of her pizza.

‘You did that military fitness last year,’ I remind her. ‘To get fit for being on stage, remember. Could we not all go to that?’

‘Oh, he was good,’ says Patty. ‘Shouted a lot but you couldn’t get away with just hiding in the corner and breathing like I did when we tried yoga.’

‘She fell asleep,’ I tell the group.

‘The instructor told us to relax,’ Patty protests.

‘And she snored,’ I add.

The waiter takes our plates and asks if we want to see the dessert menu. Given the conversation we’re having, it’s only surprising to him that we all say no in unison.

‘I could give military fitness a try,’ says Charlie. ‘Shall we book ourselves in?’

Peter and I immediately agree — and after a bit of coaxing, Patty does too.

‘I know I have to get back in shape but he’ll take one look at me and know I haven’t kept up any of the exercise,’ she says. ‘I’ll have to say I broke my leg or something.’

‘Tell the truth,’ I suggest. ‘That you met someone and became more interested in lurve than lunges.’

She clinks my glass, smiling. ‘And to be perfectly honest, I still am.’

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