Cathy Hopkins - [Mates, Dates 05] (8 page)

Om
Mani Padme Bum

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Mrs Foster lasted one
night.

While the rest of us were
cross-legged in the meditation room the next morning, chanting ‘
om mani
padme hum’, she
was on her mobile, frantically trying to find the nearest
five-star hotel with an en-suite bathroom. And Jacuzzi.

‘I’m sorry,’ said
Izzie at breakfast. ‘I think Prudence and Priscilla’s synchronised snoring was
the last straw. Then when Moira started breaking wind for Britain…’

‘I know. Must have
been last night’s soya burgers and cabbage. But no biggie. At least you’ll be
here most of the time.’

Izzie looked sheepish.
‘We’re going straight after breakfast. She wants to make sure we have a decent
room. I’ll make her come back once we’ve checked in, though. Probably after
lunch.’

And so Izzie and Mrs
Foster disappeared down the lane leaving me to kick my crutch on my own.

We started with the
walk, which was fine until Chris made us stop on the outskirts of the village
to do stretch exercises. There were a bunch of local kids hanging about near a
telephone box and they seemed to find the assorted weirdos straining to reach
their toes highly amusing. I wanted the ground to give way and swallow me up.

After that, it was the
talk about kicking your crutch. It was interesting in the end, but it wasn’t
half as much fun as it would have been if Izzie was there to sit at the back
and giggle with. The lecturer talked about time management then gave all sorts
of alternatives to having a gin and tonic and a cigarette after work or
stuffing yourself with food when you feel miserable. I suppose chocolate and
ice cream are my crutches when I’m low, but I reckon that if you don’t overdo
it, sometimes a crutch can help, especially if it’s made of double pecan fudge.

After an uninspiring
lunch of nut roast and lentils, there was still no sign of Izzie or her mum so
I went back to the dorm and rang her on my mobile.

‘When are you coming
back?’ I asked.

‘Oh Lucy, I’m so
sorry. Mum loves it here and I have to say it is pretty cool. Huge beds,
ginormous bathroom, comfy sofas everywhere with all the latest magazines. You’d
love it - all the glossies,
Vogue, Taller
and
Harpers
and…‘

‘Yes, but when are you
coming back to the prison camp?’

‘That’s just it,’ said
Izzie. ‘They have a beauty salon here and Mum’s booked herself in for a
pampering afternoon. She says this is more the kind of weekend she had in mind.
Total indulgence and lying about being waited on. I am sorry. You know I’d love
to be there with you, but she’s booked me in for a manicure this afternoon.’

I looked around at our
sparse dorm that now smelt of Moira’s egg and cress sandwiches. I couldn’t help
wishing that Mrs Foster had taken me as well. In fact, I was beginning to wish
I hadn’t come at all, considering it was Izzie’s idea in the first place.

‘Look,’ said Izzie
reading my thoughts, ‘you have to come and see this place. Why don’t you skip
the session after tea and come down here. It’s not far. Just left of the
village that you can see at the bottom of the hill. Ask for Montbury Lodge if
you get lost. Big old hotel overlooking the bay.’

‘Fantastic,’ I said,
my spirits starting to rise again. ‘I’ll be there.’

Maybe I could have tea
and scones and Devonshire clotted cream. Lie back on a big squashy sofa and
read the new
Vogue
. The weekend was looking up after all.

I trooped along with
all the others into the meditation room for the massage session, thinking that
at least this should be enjoyable. Maybe not as luxurious as the hotel, but it
would be a massage nonetheless.

After the teacher gave
us a demonstration, we put mats out on the floor and I got paired with
Prudence. It was my turn to massage first, so I held up the towel so that she
could get undressed in privacy. She lay on the mat and I gave her a gentle
massage. Nesta would have had a fit if she’d seen her, I thought, as I rubbed
her legs. She hadn’t shaved or waxed in years and her calves were as hairy as a
man’s.

Then it was her turn
to do me. I lay on the mat and closed my eyes, ready for a nice relaxing
massage. Unfortunately, however, Prudence clearly saw it as a way to get
revenge for me knocking her glasses off last night. Or maybe even revenge on
all the kids that had ever annoyed her in the library. She was of the builder’s
school of massage. Slap, whack, hammer, as hard as she could.

This is
not
my idea of fun, I thought, as I lay there with my neck twisted to one side
while some mad woman with hairy armpits used me as a way to vent her anger.

Dad didn’t seem to be
enjoying it much either, as he had the bald man massaging him and he appeared
to have studied at the same massage school as Prudence.

It seemed that everyone
had taken great care to make sure that not too much flesh was exposed and that
they were warm and covered in towels. Except Cycling Shorts, that is. He seemed
to have no inhibitions at all and was walking about in a pair of faded blue
Y-fronts. I quickly closed my eyes and couldn’t help but think once again what
a laugh we’d have had if Izzie had been there. As Prudence yanked my leg out of
my hip, I twisted my neck the other way and looked at my watch. Twenty minutes
to go. Argh argh
arrghhh
.

Dad had no objection
to my opting out of the group counselling session when I told him I wanted to
go to find Izzie.

‘I guess you get
enough psycho babble round the kitchen table at home, so fine, go,’ he said.
‘In fact, I’ll give you a lift down there.’

When we got down to
the village, we asked where the hotel was and he dropped me in a small square
in front of a drive lined with rhododendron bushes that led up to the hotel.

‘There it is,’ he
said, pointing at a gate with a brass sign that said ‘Montbury Lodge’. ‘Can you
make your own way back or ask Mrs Foster to drop you? Any problems, call me on
your mobile. I… um… have a few things I have to do before I go back.’

As I made my way up to
the hotel, I turned back to wave him off, but he’d already parked the car and
was heading with a determined walk to a building on the left of the square. I
had to laugh when I saw what it was. The King’s Arms, the local pub.

I felt slightly
intimidated as I went into the reception of the hotel as it looked so grand.
Then I remembered what Nesta always told me when I felt like this - that people
can only ever make you feel inferior if you give them permission. I belong here
as much as anyone, I thought, as I pulled myself up to my full four-foot-nine.
I approached the desk and pressed the bell. I looked around at the enormous
marble fireplace, deep sofas, polished furniture and huge vases of fresh lilies
everywhere. A few guests were sitting in a bay window in reception and helping
themselves to a cream tea. Excellent, I thought, in anticipation of the one I’d
be having in about fifteen minutes.

‘Can I help you?’
asked a lady with glasses appearing behind the desk.

‘Yes, I’m here for Mrs
Foster and her daughter,’ I said.

‘You just missed
them,’ said the lady. ‘They went out about fifteen minutes ago. Would you like
to leave a message?’

‘Um, no thanks,’ I
said and made my way out and down the long drive again.

Why hadn’t she phoned
me? I wondered, as I reached the gates and rooted round in my bag for my
mobile. I couldn’t find it and realised that I must have left it back in the
dorm when I’d called Izzie earlier. I looked to see if Dad’s car was still
there and saw that he had just got in it and was about to drive away. I darted
out of the gate and smack, I crashed right into someone who was walking past
talking to someone on a mobile. His phone went flying out of his hand and
landed on the pavement.

‘
Oi
! Watch
where you’re going,’ he cried as he bent down to pick up the phone.

‘Oh, sorry,’ I said.
‘I’m so sorry. Are you OK?’

‘I am, but I’m not
sure that my phone is,’ said the boy, pressing a few keys and putting the
mobile to his ear.

‘I, er, didn’t mean
to…’ I said as I saw Dad driving away in the distance. ‘I was…’

‘Yeah, you were
daydreaming.’

‘I was trying to catch
my dad, actually,’ I said. Then he turned to face me properly and I had to
catch my breath. He was
cute
. Actually more than cute,
tres
handsome. Blond, with very blue eyes and cheekbones to die for. ‘Is your phone
OK?’

He dialled a number
and began to walk away. ‘Yeah. No thanks to you.’

Probably the local
village heart-throb, I thought. Probably got a million girls after him. Not
this one, though. I made a face at his back. I don’t like boys who can’t at
least make an effort to be nice, no matter how good-looking they are.

Big Brother

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There were three
messages on my mobile from Izzie when I got back to the dorm.

‘Mum’s bumped into a
friend from the City,’ said the first one. ‘She was having a facial in the
hotel salon. Anyway, she’s got a second home down here and has insisted that we
go for dinner. So don’t come down today. Ring me to let me know you got the
message.’

‘Where are you?’ said
the second. ‘Mum says you can come as well, so call me. We’re leaving in about
half an hour.’

‘We’re on our way,’
said the third. ‘I hope you got the messages. Call me as soon as you get this.’

I phoned her straight
away and explained that I’d been down to the hotel and missed her.

‘Oh, I’m so sorry,
Lucy. I feel awful, especially as I talked you into doing this course in the
first place. Look, Mum’s going out with her friend Kay tomorrow and I don’t
want to hang out with them so I’ll be up first thing to spend the day up there.
You OK?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. Til
survive. It’s group visualisation tonight then wind down or something.‘

‘Sounds fab. I love
doing visualisations. I wish I was there.’

‘And I wish I was
there’
I said and told her all about the day’s events and classes. ‘It would have been
a hoot if you’d been here.’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘I
feel rotten about leaving you there. But I’ll make it up to you in the morning.
OK?’

‘OK.’

After the phone call,
I went along to the meditation room where the others were already lying on the
floor on mats. Chris had put a few candles about and lit some joss sticks and
in the background there was some soft new age music playing. The room was cosy
and warm and the mats looked very inviting. This I can do, I thought, as I
crept in, lay down by the door and closed my eyes.

Chris’s soft voice
began to lead us through the visualisation. ‘Feel yourself getting drowsy, safe
and relaxed. Your body is feeling heavy, your limbs feel limp and warm. The
only sensation you are aware of is your breath, rising and falling like gentle
waves on a shore.You feel at peace, relaxed, warm, heavy…‘

I was asleep in
seconds. Next thing I knew, the lights were being turned up and the session was
over.

‘That was brilliant,’
said Sylvia. ‘I went somewhere really lovely. A garden and the sea… How was it
for you, Lucy?’

‘Urn, yes, very
relaxing,’ I said, rubbing my eyes. I didn’t feel too bad, though, as it looked
like I wasn’t the only one who had nodded off. Half of the guests were still
comatose on the floor, Moira was dribbling onto her mat and Prudence and
Priscilla were doing their synchronised snoring again. As everyone began to get
up and shuffle off to the dorms, I became aware of a figure on a mat at the
front of the room. He hadn’t been there in the day and he was sitting with his
back to me. Oh, must be Chris’s son, I thought, as I got up to leave. Then he
turned and looked up. My jaw dropped when I saw who it was. The boy from the
village whose phone I’d knocked flying.

‘You,’ he said,
getting up and coming over to me.

‘You,’ I said.

‘Daniel, this is Lucy,
Lucy, this is Daniel,’ said Chris, joining us.

‘Yeah,’ said Daniel,
looking really disinterested, ‘we met already. Or rather we
bumped
into each other in the village.’

I went bright red and
made a beeline for the door. Dad followed me out and caught up with me in the
hall.