Chapter Four #2
An hour later we pulled up to the Serenity Rooms, a spa hotel just outside Everly Heath.
Then I was stretched out in Pilates, fed a full breakfast in the cafe, massaged within an inch of my life, and now we were all floating around a serene spa pool, even though I felt anything but relaxed.
I’d had to explain everything that happened with Casey to a chorus of ‘But you seemed so solid, so secure’, and ‘Her loss’.
Now I was quietly torturing myself by imagining her in London – sitting outside an art gallery, sipping coffee across from a girl with no face.
I’d always sort of known I wasn’t quite educated enough for Casey.
Not cultured. She was a creative, while I was loud, tall, and strong.
Sometimes I felt like the barmaid from Shrek.
‘How’s the job hunt going, Lydia?’ Kat’s soft southern voice echoed off the tiles of the spa pool, oblivious to the way the question made my heart pound.
My friends turned towards me with interest. Gen’s eyes snapped to mine from under the waterfall, where the pounding spray beat down on her shoulders.
Claire looked up from her book, carefully lounging on the poolside bed to avoid getting her hair wet.
Willa sat beside Kat, their feet dangling in the water.
Amy rose out of the pool where she’d been floating serenely on her back, the motion sending ripples towards me.
I gulped and drifted towards the deep end, dragging my fingers through the water as if it could anchor me.
‘Good,’ I choked.
The waterfall shut off with a soft clunk. Silence filled the space, save for the gentle drip-drip-drip of water echoing off the tiled walls. Claire’s gaze flicked back to her book, and she turned a page with a delicate swipe.
‘Good,’ Kat repeated, smiling awkwardly, her heart-shaped face tilting in concern.
‘Good is good,’ Willa offered with a nod, her tone light but not quite convincing.
The silence was going to kill me. I hated it. I had to fill every single bit of empty space in a conversation.
‘Okay, fine. It’s a disaster. I haven’t applied for any jobs. I just can’t bring myself to do it.’
‘That’s fine, Lydia,’ Amy said. The youngest in our crew sounded the wisest as she said, ‘It’s been a traumatic experience being dropped at Momentum. It’s okay to take some time off.’
‘Amy’s right.’ Gen said, her voice deep and smooth. ‘You need to take some time to think about what you want to do next. When I quit my job to start Everly Ink, I took two months just to think about what I wanted.’
‘Yes!’ Amy said, glee entering her expression. ‘You should open your own gym! It would be brilliant. A women-only gym.’
‘I would be down for that,’ Gen nodded.
‘I would go to the gym more if you ran it, Lydia,’ Kat smiled. ‘And I’d happily design a space for you if you wanted.’
‘We do websites at Horizon,’ Willa offered.
Panic rose in my throat.
I croaked, ‘I – I’m not opening my own gym.’
Amy deflated and even Gen, who kept her emotions under close guard, looked a little disappointed.
‘I can’t,’ I laughed rustily. ‘I’d never be able to run a business like you guys. I—’
Would I admit to it? Could I? My eyes landed on Kat, whose ADHD diagnosis later in life had shaken everything up, but she seemed to know herself better now. Why couldn’t I be that brave? Kat gave me a light frown and cocked her head, as if to say, ‘What’s up?’
I hated that she was so intuitive. If my cousin could be so honest about her diagnosis, maybe I could too?
I took a deep breath. Something about the water was soothing, so I concentrated on the way it rippled as I dragged my hands through it.
‘I have dyscalculia. I was diagnosed at school as a kid. It’s a problem processing numbers, of any kind really. I can’t tell the time. I can’t read a clock. I know it sounds stupid—’
‘It’s not stupid,’ I heard Kat murmur, and I gave her a soft smile, knowing she had battled these feelings too.
‘Even basic addition. Or counting coins. I just can’t.’ I let out a shaky laugh, the kind you make when you’re trying not to cry. ‘And let’s say I could do it and, by some miracle, the numbers are right. I still manage to convince myself I’m wrong.’
The others stayed quiet. Listening.
‘Even with a calculator, I think I’ve messed it up somehow.
Like I’ve pressed the wrong button or read the number backwards.
Sixes and eights blur together. Twos and fours swap places.
Everything just… gets mixed up.’ I dragged a hand through my damp hair.
‘So I get anxious. Really anxious. Like, heart-racing, can’t-breathe anxious.
I know that if I ran my own business, I’d wake up at three o’clock in the morning, convinced I’ve got something wrong.
Something basic. Like I’ve invoiced someone for the wrong amount or scheduled a class at the wrong time.
’ I swallowed. ‘And maybe no one else would notice. Or care. But I would. I always do.’
Claire placed down her book, bringing her legs to sit up. Amy and Gen floated a little closer, as if they wanted me to know they were there if I needed them.
‘Does anyone else know?’ Kat asked. ‘I didn’t really tell many people about my diagnosis.’
‘Mum and Dad. And Ren,’ I said, my voice breaking at the mention of his name. ‘He was pretty good at school, so he used to help me with my maths homework.’
‘Ren was good at maths?’ Kat’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Wow!’
‘Yes!’ I snapped. ‘He was a lot smarter than anyone gave him credit for.’
My face burned when I realised I had come to the defence of a man I couldn’t stand to be in the same room as.
‘Lydia, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’ Kat brought her hands up to her face. ‘I can’t believe I just said that. I’m sorry.’
‘It’s okay, it’s okay.’ I waved a hand. ‘You didn’t mean it.’
It was hard to stay mad at my cousin. She was so… herself. I was envious of the way she moved around in her body, with an air of confidence I don’t think she realised she had, and the way she said what she thought. Even if it got her into trouble. I was always trying to keep myself back.
‘I was terrible at school,’ Kat explained. ‘I guess I just presume everyone else hated it too. But that comment was ignorant.’
‘Well,’ I shot her a wry smile. ‘I was the same, Cuz. At least when it came to the numbers.’
Kat’s smile was tilted and knowing, like she was happy to have me in her exclusive club.
‘So I can’t open my own gym.’ I turned back to Amy. ‘And I’m yet to get a job. And I have rent to pay on my apartment, so it looks like I might need to move back in with Mum and Dad and, as much as I love them, they will drive me insane. So, in conclusion, no job, no girlfriend, no place to live.’
I gave a hysterical laugh, but it was sharp and jagged.
All I could hear was the drip, drip, drip of water.
Claire clapped her hands. ‘Right! Only one solution. You’re coming with me on the “Wild Women Walk” trip this week.’
I blinked. ‘Claire…’
I didn’t want to be surrounded by strangers, exposed to the elements like some kind of Victorian orphan. Torn away from my sofa, my sanctuary, and the deliciously bi-panic-inducing combo of McDreamy and Dr Addison Montgomery.
‘We’ll all go,’ she said with finality.
Gen nodded. ‘I’ll find someone to take my appointments at the shop.’
‘I could do with a break,’ Amy added. She worked as a marketing manager for a law firm and they were pretty relaxed when it came to last-minute annual leave requests.
‘Guys… you don’t have to do this.’
‘It’ll be good for us all,’ Claire said firmly.
My gaze darted to Willa and Kat. Help!
Willa raised a brow. ‘I need to be back in London. Horizon needs me.’
Willa was struggling to get new clients at her graphic design agency, Horizon, and Kat mentioned she had had to make her two employees redundant recently.
It had destroyed her and Willa was half-killing herself to make the business work.
I suspected that her regular trips up to Everly Heath were a form of escapism for her.
Kat chimed in, ‘Busy at the shop. And Abigail and I have plans.’
Traitors.
Claire, Gen, and Amy all turned to me expectantly, as if I was about to hold up my score on Strictly Come Dancing.
Spoiler: it was a big, fat zero from me.
But they’d gone to so much trouble today.
They’d planned a whole day to pull me out of my rut.
So I should be grateful, right? Who was to say a hiking trip wouldn’t help?
Did I have a better plan? I’d just admitted I had no idea what I was doing.
I could hardly claw back those words now.
If I wasn’t such a pushover – if I could quiet the ravenous guilt gnawing at my insides – I might be more like Willa or Kat.
I’d say, ‘Hell, no!’ I’d tell them camping was my actual nightmare, because it was.
I’d remind them I like my workouts in a perfectly air-conditioned room, earbuds in, heart rate monitored, no insects in sight.
But I wasn’t that person.
I was a stupid, cowardly people-pleaser.
I dipped under the surface of the water, smoothing my wet hair back, then faced the girls.
Just smile, Lydia.
‘“Wild Women Walk”, here we come.’
The girls whooped, Amy’s arms coming round to hug me. Claire launched into all the equipment we would need to buy. And I ignored the way my stomach sank like a stone straight to the bottom of the pool for the second time that day.