PART ONE
A New Leaf
Chapter One
‘I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ I said with a contented sigh.
Laura looked at me uncertainly and whistled under her breath. ‘Talk about glam. Hope they let us in.’
We were gazing around the foyer of the Enchanted Spa, Derbyshire’s newest luxury health resort.
There was something special in the air, as if the staff knew just what a fabulous day you had in store and could hardly contain their joy at sharing their workplace with their clientele. Young, old, fat, thin; gym bunnies or couch potatoes, everyone received the same warm and celebratory welcome at the front desk. I could feel my body slowly unfurling at the prospect: a spa day with my best friend. What a perfect way to spend a grey Saturday in March.
‘Oi, speak for yourself.’ I tossed back my blonde hair. ‘I can do glam.’
Although having said that, I had noticed a rather unattractive dark parting this morning. Time to book into the hairdressers for some overdue highlights. I hadn’t been for ages. In fact, I’d hardly been anywhere for ages.
Perhaps today would mark a fresh start? A chance to get my life back on track and moving forward again …
Laura snorted. ‘Tell that to your joggers, I hope that’s only mud up the back of your leg.’
‘Whoops.’ I peered down at the mark; almost definitely mud. It had still been dark and damp when I’d taken Scamp for a walk this morning, I could have splashed through anything. I wiped the front of my trainer against the back of my leg and prayed I wasn’t making things worse.
Although I was only half an hour from home, it felt like I was a million miles away from reality. Crystal chandeliers glittered above us, the polished marble floor sparkled and harp music played softly in the background.
I caught the perfume from two enormous flower arrangements and exhaled with pleasure; my shoulders dropped from their usual place around my ears. ‘I feel relaxed already.’
‘Ditto.’ Laura squeezed my arm as we both gazed around us, taking it all in. ‘I’ve got loads to tell you later.’
‘Can’t wait!’ I answered contentedly. ‘And we’ve got all day, nothing to rush for.’
Just then the sliding glass doors behind us swished open and a huge group of women entered, all kitted out in sashes and tiaras, and we were pushed towards the reception desk on a tidal wave of over-excited hen party chatter.
Ten minutes later, we’d been handed fresh fruit smoothies, fluffy gowns and slippers and a lady called Bernice, one of the smiley young receptionists, was showing us to the changing rooms.
‘Is today a special occasion, ladies?’ Bernice glided ahead of us along a thickly carpeted corridor as if she was floating on her own cloud of happiness. Her lipstick matched her nail polish exactly, I noticed. I tucked my own ragged nails into my palms and tried to remember the last time I’d even worn make-up.
‘Not really,’ I answered, straightening my spine to copy her immaculate posture. ‘Just spending a day together. We haven’t seen each other for ages.’
‘Celebrating life then.’ Bernice turned and gave me a twinkly smile. ‘Can’t fault you.’
‘Er … I guess so,’ I said vaguely.
Today was about escaping my normal life. And here, where no one knew me except Laura, I was hoping to forget my sorrows for a few hours. Or did that make me sound uncaring? Because I cared very much. Always would. Oh God, now I could feel tears pooling in my eyes. Fresh start, Fearne, remember?
Bernice gave me a quizzical look and I felt Laura’s reassuring hand on my arm.
‘I’m an accountant,’ she said, forcing Bernice to divert her stare from my less than celebratory face. ‘So the start of the year is always hectic for me, doing people’s last-minute tax returns. I’m exhausted.’
Poor thing, I thought, snapping myself out of my reverie to note the dark shadows under her eyes. We’d been friends since we were sixteen, so I was used to her ridiculously long hours in January. Mind you, this year must have been exceptionally busy because I’d scarcely seen her in February either. And seeing as I’d become a bit of a recluse over the last seven months, so far this year had been pretty quiet. If it wasn’t for her and my brother’s best friend Hamish checking up on me regularly then the majority of my conversations outside of work would be with the dog, Scamp. And he wasn’t even mine, I was looking after him for my elderly neighbour, Ethel, while she recovered from a broken hip. Scamp did his best to keep up his end of the conversation, but I must say I was looking forward to chatting with an actual human for a change.
‘Tax returns. Urgh.’ Bernice pulled a face as she opened the door to the changing rooms and led us inside. ‘Sounds tough.’
‘It’s over for another year though, thank goodness!’ said Laura, doing a fist pump. ‘Besides, it’s Fearne who’s most in need of some pampering, she really has had a tough time.’
A knot of frustration tightened in my stomach. She was half right. But I hadn’t had a tough time; I was still having one. If my best friend didn’t understand how I felt, what chance did anyone else have, I thought glumly. I’d been there when her mum died ten years ago just before we graduated from university and it had been a full year until she stopped bursting into tears at the most inopportune moments. Grief was inconsiderate like that, it didn’t work to a deadline and my grief appeared to be going on long after other people thought I should be over it.
‘Oh? Sorry to hear that.’ Bernice tilted her head, waiting for me to elaborate.
‘Thanks.’ I looked down at my muddy trainers. No way was I going to open up to a stranger.
‘So how do these lockers work?’ Laura asked, coming to my rescue again. She sent me a look of apology.
Bernice demonstrated how to activate the wristbands we’d been given to open the lockers. Then she gave us a smile. ‘Righto, ladies, now all you have to decide is what to do next.’
‘I fancied doing a class first,’ I said, scanning the activity schedule. ‘Before getting into my dressing gown.’
Laura’s brow lifted with shock and I felt a flush of warmth to my face. I’d resisted her attempts to get me to go to Salsa (and every other sort of exercise class, and I’d bailed out of book club). I didn’t know why she bothered with me these days: I’d always been the sociable one, always up for a drink or a shopping trip, an impromptu party. Now I avoided group situations like the plague.
‘Great idea.’ Laura looked at the fluffy robe over her arm longingly. ‘As long as it’s nothing too strenuous.’
We both looked at Bernice for ideas.
‘Hula-hooping at eleven?’ she suggested, circling her hips.
Laura shuddered. ‘Tried it once at the gym and my hips wouldn’t gyrate like everyone else’s. I looked like Mr Bean dry-humping his imaginary friend.’
I giggled. Laura was petite and pixie-like, with short coppery hair and large brown eyes and looked absolutely nothing like Mr Bean.
‘Hmm, OK, let’s have a look.’ Bernice peered over my shoulder at the sheet. ‘How about Nordic Walking then? Fresh air and a tramp in the woods?’
‘Who’s she calling a tramp?’ Laura muttered wickedly.