Cathy Hopkins - [Mates, Dates 05] (9 page)

‘That wasn’t very
friendly,’ he said. ‘Where are your manners?’

‘Where are
his
,
more like,’ I said. ‘I accidentally bumped into him in the village and when I
apologised, he was really offhand.’

‘Come on, Lucy,’ said
Dad. ‘This isn’t like you. You have to make some effort.’

‘Right,’ I said,
thinking, no way I’m making an effort with him, not until he learns to accept
an apology with grace.

I went back to the
dorm where it appeared that romance was in the air. Grace, Priscilla and Moira
were all sitting on Moira’s bunk giggling like schoolgirls. Apparently, Grace
had taken a shine to Jonathan or Tabula, as he liked to call himself. Moira had
swopped numbers with Cycling Shorts and Priscilla had a date with Hubert the
osteopath.

‘Where’s Sylvia?’ I
asked, thinking that maybe I could have a chat with her or a game of backgammon
or something.

‘Gone back to London
to look after a friend who was having a healing crisis,’ said Prudence from her
bunk, where she was eavesdropping on the others’ conversation while pretending
to read. She looked put out that Priscilla had got a date and she hadn’t.

So it’s me and you,
pal, I thought. The singletons. I felt lonely there without Izzie to talk to
and wondered whether to go over and try to be friendly to Prudence. But she was
definitely in a sulk. She put earplugs in and began to read a book. This is
like being on
Big Brother
, I thought, and you, dear Prudence, would be
the first to be voted off.

In the end, I decided
to get an early night. It had been a long day and we had another six a.m. start
the next morning.

Izzie was true to her
word and turned up straight after breakfast on Sunday. She was flushed with
excitement as she slid in beside me at the breakfast table.

‘Lucy, I’ve just met Daniel.
Have you seen him? He’s
drop dead gorgeous. And so sweet. We must find out if he’s single for you.’

‘Oh Izzie, give me a
break. I thought we’d left all that “Let’s pair Lucy off” nonsense back in
London. I
have
met him and I don’t like him.’

At that moment, the
dining room door opened and Daniel came in. He moved among the guests,
chatting, smiling and fetching them whatever they wanted from the breakfast
hatch.

‘What’s not to like?’
asked Izzie, as she watched him move round the room. ‘He seems really friendly
and he dresses nicely.’

I glanced over at him.
He did look cool in his black jeans and black T-shirt. He helped himself to a
bowl of muesli, then came over to the end of the table where we were sitting.

‘Hi,’ he said, smiling
at both of us. ‘Anything I can get you?’

I shook my head.

‘I’ve already eaten,
thanks,’ said Izzie. ‘But please, sit with us.’

I made a mental note
to kill her later.

He looked over at me.
‘I guess we got off on the wrong foot yesterday, didn’t we?’ Then he grinned.
‘Or at least
you
did.’

Oh, here he goes
again, I thought. ‘I
said
I was sorry.’

‘I know. And the
phone’s fine. So let’s pretend it never happened and start again.
So, hi, I’m Daniel.
And my mum runs this course for
escaped lunatics.’

Izzie burst out
laughing and I glanced up and looked at him properly. He was very good-looking
and he had made an effort to be friendly. Maybe I should give him another
chance.

‘And I’m Lucy
Levering,’ I said. ‘I’m here with my dad.’

‘How are you finding
the weekend?’

‘Urn…’

Daniel grinned, then
whispered. ‘Slow torture?’

‘It’s more Izzie’s
thing,’ I said diplomatically. ‘Though I did enjoy the visualisation last
night.’

‘So did I,’ he said. ‘Great
excuse to have a kip. And did you hear all that snoring?’

I was beginning to
warm to him.

‘So what are you
into?’ he asked.

‘Oh…’

‘Fashion,’ said Izzie.
‘Lucy’s a fantastic designer. She makes loads of her own stuff.’

‘You’re kidding,’ said
Daniel. ‘That’s what I want to do when I leave school. I want to go to the
London School of Fashion, then go and work in Milan or Paris.’

‘Really?’ I asked.

After that, we were
off. We discovered that we had loads in common and like me, he knows all the
famous designers and places to get offcuts of fabric, and often goes down to
Portobello to trawl round the vintage clothes shops.

I decided to test his
sense of humour and told him my latest favourite joke. ‘A man is driving down a
country road,’ I said, ‘when he spots a farmer standing in the middle of a huge
field of grass. He pulls the car over to the side of the road and notices that
the farmer is just standing there, doing nothing, looking at nothing. The man
gets out of the car, walks all the way out to the farmer and asks him, “Excuse
me, mister, but what are you doing?” The farmer replies, “I’m trying to win a
Nobel Prize.”

“How?” asks the man,
puzzled. “Well, I heard they give the Nobel Prize… to people who are out
standing in their field.” ‘

He cracked up laughing.
‘OK, I’ve got one for you,’ he said.

‘What do you call a
French man wearing sandals?’

‘Dunno,’ I said.

‘Philippe Philope.’

I went down my wish
list mentally. Sense of humour? Tick. Into fashion? Tick.

Izzie sat watching us
with a sly smile, like she was a satisfied mother whose children were playing
happily together.

Shiatsu
Shmiatsu

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Izzi’e was the first to
point it out.

‘He’s
exactly
the boy on your wish list,’ she whispered as we sat at the back of an
aromatherapy demonstration in the morning. ‘He’s gorgeous, medium build,
fit-looking, sense of humour.’

‘But he may have a
girlfriend, for all we know,’ I said, taking one of the bottles of oils that
was being passed round and inhaling deeply.

Izzie grinned. ‘He
hasn’t. I asked him when you went to get your fleece after breakfast.’

‘
Izzie’
I
said. ‘What will he think?’

‘He likes you,’ she
said. ‘He asked loads of questions about you. And he doesn’t live far from us.
His mum runs a clinic in Chalk Farm, so they’re just down the road.’

‘Really?’ I glanced
over at Daniel, who was sitting two rows in front. Could Izzie’s wish list
really have worked?

After the aromatherapy
session, Chris taught us a Chinese form of self-massage called Do-In. It was
hilarious, as the technique seemed to consist of us having to beat ourselves
up. Sort of.

‘Clench your hand into
a fist,’ said Chris, ‘and with a loose wrist, tap along the top of your
shoulder, the side of your neck and as far down your back as you can reach.’

We all did as we were
told, tapping along our shoulders, then legs and arms and it did seem to wake
us all up. Everyone appeared to be in a better mood afterwards and the
atmosphere had lightened considerably since yesterday. Daniel kept catching my
eye and making daft faces as though he was in agony every time he hit himself.

Next we did shiatsu
massage on our faces. We learned various points to press on, along the temple,
jaw line and the sinuses, and I started to feel really good.

‘This is brilliant,
isn’t it?’ said Izzie, prodding along her eyebrow line. She seemed to be
enjoying it all immensely.

I nodded and looked
over at Daniel. Maybe the workshop had something to offer after all.

Next on the schedule
was reflexology and, as in the massage class the day before, Chris told us to
pair off. Great, I thought, this time I’ll be with Izzie instead of Heavy
Hands. But Izzie saw Daniel glance over at me and she turned to Moira.

‘How about I go with
you?’ she asked her, then called to Daniel. ‘Hey Daniel, Lucy needs a partner.’

I went scarlet.
Sometimes my friends have no shame. Daniel came straight over. Til do you
first,‘ he said. ’Lie back and take your trainers off.‘

I lay on the mat and
went even redder as he slid my socks off and dusted my feet with talc.

He smiled as he held
my feet in his hands. ‘Little feet.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘I
hate being so small sometimes. All my friends are really tall. I’m the midget.’

‘Good things come in
small packages,’ he said, still smiling. ‘Personally, I like small girls.’

Ohmigod! I thought, as
I mentally ticked off another thing on the wish list - likes petite.

As he followed his
mum’s instructions, I closed my eyes and drifted off into seventh heaven. His
touch was so different to Prudence’s. He was gentle and firm at the same time.
I must add this to my list, I thought. Boy who can do a good foot massage.

‘You’ve done this
before, haven’t you?’ I asked.

He nodded. ‘Mum taught
me. It’s nice, isn’t it?’

I nodded. ‘Heaven.’

After twenty minutes,
we swopped places and I was relieved to find that his feet were clean with neat
toe-nails. It would have been such a disappointment if he’d ha,d smelly feet
like my brother Lai’s. I began the massage and glanced at his face to make sure
I wasn’t pressing too hard. He was lying back with his eyes wide open, looking
up at me. I blushed furiously as a bolt of electricity went straight through
me.

‘Close your eyes,’ I
said.

‘Why?’

‘You’re making me
nervous.’

‘Good.’ He smiled, but
he did as I asked and closed his eyes for the rest of the session. This is a
new one, I thought. It’s strange, but massaging someone’s feet can be as much
fun as snogging. Hope Dad’s not watching, I thought, as I quickly glanced over
to where he was. Luckily he was busy massaging Prudence’s feet and hadn’t
noticed his daughter flirting with feet only two metres away.

Izzie looked over at
me from where she was being massaged by Moira. She made her eyes go cross-eyed
and pulled a face. So it wasn’t so much the massage, but the person doing it
with you. I thought back to the session yesterday and thanked God he hadn’t
been there then. I think I would have died if I’d had to strip off and have him
massage my back. Although, when I thought about it, it made my stomach go
funny, but in a nice way.

By lunchtime, I was
floating on air and I wasn’t sure whether it was all the treatments or whether
it was Daniel.

‘I think I may be in
love,’ I said to Izzie as we tucked into a lentil cheese loaf.

‘Thought so,’ she
said. ‘I saw the way you two were looking at each other in that last session.’

‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’m
going to add, “can do foot massage” to my perfect boy list. A definite
requisite from now on.’

I was looking forward
to the afternoon session and hoped that it would be more nice treatments. Then
I’d have another chance to pair off with Daniel.

I soon realised that
wasn’t to be.

‘This afternoon, we’re
going to start with an exercise to vent your pent-up emotions,’ said Chris.

But I feel great, I
thought. I haven’t got any, so this is going to be a waste of time for me.

‘It’s a way to release
anger or frustration that you can’t express,’ continued Chris. ‘The sorts of
feelings that if held in, can gnaw away at your peace of mind. I believe that
negativity is better
out
that in, so now is your chance to let it all
out.’

‘Cool,’ said Izzie,
giving me a meaningful look. ‘Unfinished business.’

‘You can’t yell at
your boss,’ Chris said, then looked at Iz and me and grinned, ‘or your teacher
or headmistress, maybe. So I’d like you to pick a cushion from the pile in the
corner, then project onto it whatever or whoever has made you angry in the past
- a lover, a parent, a colleague, a neighbour, a friend or even God. As it is
sometimes not appropriate to let your anger out at the person directly, this is
a way to free yourself of it without any repercussions.’

‘Excellent,’ said
Izzie, heading for the pile.

I reluctantly went to pick
a cushion with the others. The idea seemed a bit mad to me.

‘OK,’ said Chris, ‘now
let rip. You can throw your cushion, kick it, stomp on it, whatever you feel.
Let your inhibitions go.’

Izzie picked a red
cushion and started laying into it with passion.

‘Poor cushion,’ I
said. ‘What’s it done to you?’

‘I’m imagining it’s
all the terrorists who have killed innocent people,’ panted Izzie as she jumped
up and down on it. ‘It makes me so mad sometimes as I feel so helpless and
angry
that I can’t do anything.’