The Spa Break

Chapter 10

Later, we scatter on loungers by the indoor pool and I think on what my friends said. They’re right. Back when we first met, I was definitely more carefree. Not in an oh-she’s-totally-changed type of way, but certainly less worried about stuff. More relaxed. Em was right when she assumed that I came back for second year ready to focus on my studies. With that and the stuff going on with James, I did feel like I ought to be the child who could focus on getting good grades and making my parents proud. It’s also, I realise, the summer when Stella’s mum had her relapse. When she started drinking again because I facilitated her. And I saw the devastation and destruction it caused Stella and her family. How Luke left the country to escape from it all. How Stella was back to square one, nursing the mother who should have been caring for her.

I saw how fragile life could be, how easily the status quo could turn, and it just made sense to focus on things like solid careers and saving for houses and dating sensible men. With families proving so tricky, I sought out equilibrium and stability elsewhere. I would get a ‘proper’ job rather than moon after some flighty dream of being a bookshop owner. I would head back home to be close to my parents. It’s like I’ve needed to prove that I can make good decisions as a result of that very, very bad one. And if Stella’s mum couldn’t look after her, because of what I did, then I sure as heck would be the one to look after my friends.

The fact is, this has been playing on my mind for years now. I have to tell Stella the truth about what happened and now that we’re finally together, I sense that now is my chance.

‘Stell?’ I say, a bag of nerves as the three of us walk back to our suite together.

‘Jessie,’ she replies.

‘Can we talk?’

‘Sure,’ she says, plonking herself down on a bench. Em and I sit down either side of her.

‘Okay, I did a really, really bad thing back at uni,’ I say, shakily looking at my best friends. ‘I’ve been carrying it around ever since and I realise that the guilt’s going to eat me alive if I don’t face up to it, head on.’

‘Knew I brought these for a reason,’ Em says, pulling some mini bottles of champagne out of her bag. ‘Got them from our minibar,’ she explains as she opens all three and hands them out. ‘Do continue. And Jessie, whatever you have to say, we’re here for you okay?’

I accept my drink and give her a watery smile.

‘A confessional!’ Stella looks thrilled. ‘Did you rack up a huge debt in unreturned library books? Or, let me guess, did you actually stay up past midnight the night before an exam one time?’

‘Stell, come on now.’ Emerald has a mock frown on her face. ‘Maybe Jessie was running some kind of black market dissertation writing service the whole time, making a criminal fortune off the students who couldn’t be arsed to write their own?’

‘I’m being serious!’ I protest while they attempt to rearrange their faces and motion for me to continue. ‘It’s about your mum, Stell.’ I wobble. ‘It’s … it’s my fault that she’s been struggling with alcohol for all these years.’

Stella snorts, which I was not expecting. ‘How on earth is it your fault?’

I take a deep breath, and then it all comes tumbling out.

‘Remember before the start of second year when we moved into our flat together?’

‘Oh yes, I had those dreadful cowboy boots that I insisted on wearing with everything.’

‘I actually loved those,’ Em says charitably. ‘They were so … busy.’

‘They had pictures of horses’ heads stitched into the sides,’ Stella recalls.

Em starts giggling. ‘Yes! And wasn’t there a slogan, too?’

‘Giddy up,’ honks Stella.

We’re veering drastically off topic. I give my friends a look.

‘Oh sorry, you were telling me how it’s your fault that my mum is an alcoholic, which is definitely a normal and sensible thing for a person to think. Do continue,’ Stella says, just shy of rolling her eyes.

‘Stella, please ,’ I say, willing her to take this seriously. ‘It is my fault. Your mum was sober when we met, remember? She’d battled so hard to get herself clean and all first year you were so happy about it.’

Stella’s face clouds over and I feel a stab of pain for putting her through this. She never likes to dwell on Jacqui. Is it selfish of me for bringing her up? Something inside me insists that I have to tell my friend the truth, that she deserves to know, even though I feel horrible for confronting it.

‘And then she fell spectacularly off the wagon again at the start of second year. Yes, I remember, Jess,’ she says. ‘I found her. At home, in a mess, after a three-day bender.’

‘Because she’d come round to our flat,’ I explain. ‘You were both out. I’d only met your mum once before that, when we packed up after first year. This time she knocked on the door and she was so sweet and friendly and I didn’t think , Stell.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘She asked to borrow some money,’ I say, the shame of it making me feel sick. ‘She said she’d come into town to pick up a housewarming gift for you, but she’d forgotten her purse. She’d left it at home. I remember her saying “silly me!” But she’d come all the way in and didn’t want to waste the journey and could I lend her some money and I did it, Stell. I did it.’ I hold my head in my hands as the painful memories come flooding back.

‘I remember apologising because I only had a tenner on me and I wasn’t sure if that was enough. And I remember that she didn’t say anything after that, she just took the money and hurried off. And then three days later, when you came back from your mum’s, I just knew. I started it up again. It was my fault, Stella. And I am so, so sorry. All the rubbish you have been through since …’

I run out of words, furiously blinking back the tears that are pooling in my eyes as I look down at my lap, too ashamed to meet Stella’s gaze. This could be it, I realise. Our friendship could be over. She has every right to hate me for what I did. The thought of losing my best friend makes me feel hollow and I end up clinging on to the bench to steady myself.

There’s silence.

An excruciatingly long silence.

Two fellow hotel guests stroll serenely by in towelling robes, talking excitedly about the vitamin drips they’re off to try. My eyes track down to the little bottle in my hand, a stark reminder of what I did, before I look over at Stella.

Her eyes are like saucers, her mouth hanging open.

She looks from me to Emerald and back again.

And then.

‘AH HA HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA,’ she splutters. It’s a guttural noise that seems to come right up from her core. ‘OH MY GOD. I’m sorry, I … Wait, no. I can’t speak.’

She holds her hands up to her face and I watch in astonishment as her shoulders start to shake.

Is she laughing ?

She can’t be. I’m not sure quite what reaction I was expecting, but it was definitely going to be anger-adjacent. And here she is slapping her hand down on her knees so hard some fizz bubbles out of her bottle.

She’s delirious. She’s so utterly cross that she’s having one of those inappropriate laughter moments, you know, when you get the giggles at the world’s worst time.

Em and I exchange looks.

I wait nervously for Stella to calm down and then read me the riot act.

‘HA HA HA.’ She reaches out and grabs my hand. ‘Oh, JESS! I love you and sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing, but you really have outdone yourself this time.’

‘Stell, I know it’s a lot to take in. And I really am so incredibly sorry. If I could travel back in time and have a word with my past self, I would tell her not to be so completely foolish. I wish I could so much. All the heartache …’ I clam up, tears threatening to spill again but it’s not for me to do the crying now. It’s not my moment. I bite down on my lip and wait.

Stella finally stops howling.

‘Ooh!’ She clutches her belly. ‘I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.’

She takes a long sip of her drink and then fixes me with a firm stare.

Here it comes.

‘Jessica, do you seriously think you are responsible for Jacqui’s problems?’

I shrug.

‘Christ on a bike, mate. You’re not. Tenner or no tenner, it’s not your fault. Mum would have found that money from somewhere else if she hadn’t got it from you. When she’s on a mission, there’s no stopping her. I remember that time incredibly well, because you’re right, she’d been doing so well before that. Even now I keep notes in my diary on her sobriety, or lack thereof. And it wasn’t you who started that spiral. She’d been drinking for a few weeks before that weekend bender. I never said anything at the time because I was so bitterly disappointed, and I wanted uni to be an escape from it all. I didn’t want to be talking about my messy mother again. So I said nothing. Jess,’ she says, squeezing my hand and fixing me with her gaze, ‘you are not to blame.’

I struggle to process this.

‘Are you sure?’ I whisper, voice cracking. ‘You’re not just saying that? Because, Stell, I hate so much that that happened. I’ve been so mad with myself …’

Stella’s demeanour has gone from sheer mirth to one of concern and sympathy.

‘Oh Jess,’ she says. ‘I can’t believe you’ve been carrying this around this whole time. Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘I was scared I’d lose you.’ I sniff. ‘I know I should have been honest. I’ve thought about it a lot and I guess I was just a kid, so I was still learning maybe? Not that that is any excuse. But I’d only met you two the year before and I’d never had such brilliant friends before. I was terrified of messing it up. And then when I did get the clarity to understand that I should have said something, it felt like too long ago, and your mum was clean again, and I didn’t want to drag up bad memories for you. I should have spoken about it ages ago but I’ve been too much of a chicken and I am so sorry, Stella.’

Em swipes a tear from her eye and takes another swig of champagne.

‘Oh love,’ Stella says. ‘It can’t have helped that I literally never spoke about my mum’s problems, can it? No wonder you didn’t want to say anything. But listen, even if your money had led to her falling off the wagon again – and it didn’t – it still wouldn’t be your fault. You are not accountable for anyone else’s decisions, let alone my mum’s. Okay?’

I nod, feeling so grateful for her generosity in this moment.

Stella chuckles when she’s satisfied that I’ve absorbed her words. ‘Jeez, talk about dramatic.’

Em nods. ‘Carrying guilt around is literally so bad for the chakras, babes.’ She frowns, eyeing me up. ‘Well done, you, for getting it all out there. I can already see your aura changing.’

‘Not that again.’ I smile.

‘Much lighter. So what caused the big reveal? Unless, wait.’ Em pauses, looking thrilled. ‘It’s totally your Saturn Return, Jessie. You’re taking stock and re-evaluating life. These moments of clarity are so powerful for your transformation, babes.’

‘My app did say I should “turn my face to the truth” today,’ I concede.

Stella yawns. ‘Good for you. But the only thing I want to turn my face to is a large bowl of pasta.’

We head back in our suite and, fresh from the shower, I take charge of the room service menu feeling a hundred per cent lighter.

‘Good news, Stell,’ I call through to her bedroom. ‘There’s an entire pasta section! And this one sounds amazing. Listen, pasta alla ruoto; piping hot linguine served inside a cheese wheel, which is then scraped to coat the pasta in cheese.’

‘Hell yes,’ Stella replies. ‘And garlic bread? And olives? Shall we just have an Italian feast and have done with it?’

‘And maybe a green salad, just for a bit of health?’ I offer, which weirdly no one responds to.

There’s a knock on the door five minutes after I call the order through.

‘Can’t be food already, can it?’ I mutter, quickly ditching my post-shower robe and pulling on joggers and a jumper because I already know that the others aren’t going to be answering the door.

I pad through to the hallway and sling the door open ready to embrace the food.

‘Jess!’ says Luke, a big smile breaking out on his face when he sees me.

‘Hey,’ I squeak, suddenly regretting the fact that I just moisturised the crap out of my face and must be shinier than a sequin right now.

Luke’s giant physique takes up the entire doorframe.

‘Just the person I was hoping to see,’ he says.

‘Me?’

‘You.’

‘Erm, why?’

‘Can I come in?’

Em emerges from her room and bounds over, delighted by the arrival of Luke.

‘Come in, come in!’ she says, bustling him towards the sofas. ‘Jessie, where are your manners? We’ve just ordered room service. Will you stay and eat with us, Luke?’

On the one hand, this sounds amazing. On the other hand, my shiny face.

Luke runs a hand through his hair and says: ‘I would love to, but sadly I’m needed down at the gym tonight. That’s actually why I popped by.’ He turns to look at me. ‘Apparently my tennis classes are getting booked up pretty quickly and I just wanted to check in to see if you wanted to come along to one?’

He looks almost bashful. Em appears to be watching a tennis game of her own, head turning from Luke to me and back again.

Suddenly Luke seems to remember that Em is also in the room. ‘Either of you, I mean,’ he adds. ‘All three of you, obviously.’

‘Sure,’ says Em, narrowing her eyes. ‘“All three of us”,’ she repeats in a ridiculous over-the-top voice, actually adding finger quotes.

I very briefly scowl at her and she beams back at me. I’m glad someone is loving this! Although wait, I should be too. Luke has just come to my suite to personally offer me a tennis lesson – something Croissants would die for, I bet.

‘So, just let me know if you fancy it,’ Luke says, catching my eye for the quickest moment. ‘Because I’d be more than happy to add you into the class, even if it says it’s fully booked.’

‘Oh, erm—’ I manage, a true wordsmith of our time.

‘That’s very thoughtful of you, Luke,’ chips in Em. ‘I’m sure Jess would love that. I’m actually really great at tennis already so I’ll pass. Leave you two to it.’

Oh my god. Emerald is about as subtle as a loudspeaker.

Stella finally emerges from her room, slaps her little brother on the back and announces that she fancies a game of cards while we wait for food.

‘Fancy losing at Uno, little bro?’ she asks.

‘No, but I’m happy to make sure you lose,’ he says, following her over to the dining table.

‘As if.’ She shakes her head. ‘You guys in?’

I gratefully accept, pleased to have something to do that isn’t, you know, being gormless around Luke. I grab a seat and resolutely ignore Em, who sits opposite batting her eyelashes at me like a lunatic. When Luke takes the seat next to me and sits with his body angled in my direction, I swear I hear her whisper a laddish ‘oi oi’.

Uno should be a family-friendly classic but Stella and Luke are so competitive that swear words are soon flying across the table as they try to outdo each other. When I play the plus four card on Luke, he shoots me this adorably sad look.

‘Jess, how could you?’ He grins, clutching at his heart.

‘Don’t hate the player, Luke,’ I shoot back.

Emerald does some eyebrow pumping at this and I glare at her. When the direction of play changes and Stella plays a plus four card on Luke, he says: ‘Sis, what the hell?’

‘What happened to “Jess, how could you?”’ Stella mocks.

‘You’re my sister, you can handle it,’ he says, before announcing that he’s about to win.

‘Jammy bastard,’ says Stella as Luke plays his final card and wins the game. ‘You always do this.’

‘I guess I’m just better at cards than you.’ He shrugs, a glint in his eye.

‘Please!’ Stella tuts. ‘This is a kids’ game anyway. Next time we’re playing poker. For money.’

‘You don’t even know how to play poker!’ Luke replies.

‘Guess what, I’ll learn. And then I will take all of your money.’

‘Okay, Stell, good luck with that.’ He laughs, checking his watch. ‘I’d better go.’

‘Oh this is unfair. You’re leaving us with Stella while she quietly seethes about losing a game of Uno to her little brother?’ I tease. ‘Have some humanity, Luke!’

He looks me straight in the eye and then holds out his hand to me. ‘You’re very welcome to come to the gym with me.’ He’s still light in his tone, but his eyes are saying something else. I think. I’m sure. No, I’m not. Oh no.

I swallow. I look at Stella and thankfully she’s too engrossed in shuffling the deck of cards to have noticed. I deliberately don’t look at Em. And then, just as I think I am about to take his hand, Stella says, ‘Gym or pasta? Tough choice! We’re not all weirdos like you, little bro. And we’re having a girls’ night in.’ And then she stands up and bustles him out of the door.

Half an hour later and we’re sat cross-legged on a picnic blanket in the living room enjoying the most delicious spread. Never mind pasta bowls, we each have our own wheel of cheese with a hole in the middle filled with pasta. It’s so rich, and so good, that every time I think I’ve had enough I end up going back for another forkful. I’m halfway through one when my phone lights up with a call from Bryan, my editor at the Carpston Courier . Startled, I hit ignore and push my phone across the floor so I can’t see it.

‘Don’t think I didn’t see that.’ Stella looks right at me.

‘What?’ I ask.

‘Jessie, that’s the second work call I’ve seen you ignore already this trip. Is everything okay? And why is bloody Bryan ringing you on a Sunday night?’

‘Probably can’t figure out how to turn his computer on again,’ I say vaguely.

Stella snorts. ‘Come on then, what’s the latest on the buffoons in your office? Is Arjun back after he had to “take the week” when his mum’s hamster was allegedly ill?’

I giggle at this. Arjun joined the digital team (so – me) a year ago because Bryan decided that the paper needed someone Very Young and who understands youth culture. I was thrilled to have someone to line-manage but it swiftly became clear that Arjun spends approx. zero time content-creating, preferring instead to swipe endless dating apps. So for the past twelve months I’ve been doing my job and Arjun’s and trying to encourage some journalistic nous in the actual teenager I share a desk with. It’s been a lot.

‘You’ll be thrilled to know that Tinkerbell the hamster is absolutely fine now.’ I grin, kicking my legs out in front of me. ‘I did actually think I’d have a juicy story to sink my teeth into a few weeks ago. Bryan came into conference and announced there’d been a drugs raid in Carpston which reminded him of his—’

‘Time at The Sun ,’ Stella and Em chime in unison.

‘Exactly.’ I chuckle. Bryan loves to bang on about this ‘time at The Sun ’ but when I looked into it, I discovered that he spent a week there on work experience before being told to go home because he messed up the assistant editor’s sandwich order. So I did feel a bit dubious about how many drugs raids he actually managed to ‘cover’ during this inauspicious week.

‘Tell me more,’ Em says. ‘Is there a secret cartel in Carpston?! Because that would be exciting for you!’

‘I know! My ears totally pricked up and straight away I was thinking, what are we talking about here? Cocaine? Ketamine? Heroin? Who’d have thought sleepy old Carpston might well be the new Medellin. Is there a Pablo Escobar in our midst? I’d ruled out Mary, who runs the coffee mornings for retired people, because although she always has a glint in her eye, on balance, she seemed an unlikely candidate. But Percy and Sue, the pub landlords? My money was on them.’

‘The Crown!’ Stella gasps. ‘We’ve been for drinks there a few times. I remember that landlady. Sue loves a showy jewel, there’s always something sparkling on her when she’s pulling pints.’

‘Precisely. Drugs money.’ I smile. ‘Only, it turned out that Bryan’s “trusted source” on the drugs raid intel was, in fact, his wife. And she’d been offered some “cannabis oil” at one of her weigh-ins at the church hall.’

‘Oh boy.’

‘All that fuss for—’

‘CBD oil at the local slimming club.’ I can’t help but laugh.

The girls are chuckling too, until Em turns suddenly serious.

‘You’re too good for that place,’ she says.

‘What kind of journalist confuses CBD oil with a drugs raid?’ Stella points out.

‘Anyway, enough about my ridiculous job. It sounds like things at the charity have been super busy, Stell. Is everything okay?’

‘Chaotic, but good,’ she says. ‘I’ve spent the past six months or so working with a potential new celebrity patron for the charity. She’s the perfect face for us, you know, single-parent upbringing, council estate kid, massive success story in spite of all the extra hurdles she’s had to jump to get there. Even now there’s still this stigma attached to people from low-income, single-parent families, which is fucking ridiculous, but that’s why we set the charity up in the first place. So, anyway, it took a lot of persuading to get her to come on board, lots of hectic meetings with her agent et cetera, but it’s been so worth it. She signed up with us last week.’

‘Ah, Stell! Congratulations.’

‘Thank you,’ she says, then yawns. ‘God, I’m still catching up. Think I’m going to get an early night. See you guys in the morning.’

As soon as Stella’s shut her bedroom door, Em scooches closer to me with a look on her face. I know very well what’s coming.

‘It was nice to see Luke earlier,’ she says suggestively.

‘He’s so pretty,’ I say, biting down on my index finger.

‘He’s so into you.’

‘Oh sure.’ I chuckle.

‘Babes, did you not see the bit where he completely forgot I was in the room and asked you out?’

I roll my eyes. ‘He did not ask me out. He asked all of us to his tennis class, Em. There’s a bit of a difference there. Besides, everybody fancies him and I’m on a man cleanse now. The end.’

‘A man cleanse?’ Em clutches at her stomach as she laughs. ‘Oh Jessie! I love you, but you are barking up the wrong tree, my friend. You don’t need to ditch men full stop, you just need to pick a good one.’

‘Like it’s that easy,’ I say.

‘You just need to stop waiting for Sensible Simons to ask you out, and find someone who makes you feel actual things, and go for it,’ Em replies, like this is the simplest concept in the world.

‘Funnily enough, my new best friend Dita Ortiz said something similar earlier. “Yessica, you should not cleanse passion from your life,”’ I say, rolling onto my back to mull it over, now so full of pasta that my tummy feels like it takes a minute to catch up with the rest of me.

‘But the thing is, Em, I’ve never really “felt things” before,’ I confess. ‘Maybe the occasional butterfly but never anything ground-breaking. Otis took so long to get over our break-up, we’d talk for hours about his heartache, and how crippling it was for him, and he just assumed that I felt the same. But the truth is, I only felt a bit sad when we split up and mostly relieved, I think. Does that make me a monster?’

Em comes to lie down right next to me like we’re sardines in a tin.

‘No, it does not,’ she says firmly. ‘And it’s precisely why you needed to split up with him in the first place. But I think you’re lying to yourself.’

I push up on my arms.

‘Why?’

‘You have felt things before, it’s happening right now. With Luke!’

‘Well, sure, but I’m just one of many admirers. He’s not going to pick me when he’s got hot influencers on his tail, is he? Have you seen Croissants?’

‘Oh Jessie, you sweet, adorable fool.’

‘What?!’ I say, feeling a bit dejected. ‘We’re hardly sympatico, are we?’

‘First of all, who actually uses the word “sympatico” in a sentence, babes? Like, out loud? And secondly, if your Saturn Return doesn’t involve banging Luke then I will eat my diamond tiara. And it sounds like Dita Actual Ortiz agrees with me. You swapped numbers with her, right?’

I nod.

‘So message her now, find out what she’s doing! If she’s free, I think we should meet Dita for a nightcap.’

‘What!’ I squark.

‘Oh come on, it’ll be fun! Stella’s passed out already and it’s not even 9pm.’

Thirty minutes later and the three of us are in Dita’s ‘room’, which is actually a series of rooms taking up the entire top floor of the original building. She has her own music room with a grand piano, and a plunge pool up here. It’s even more luxe than our spa suite. As Dita bustled us inside she explained that she’d done her drinking for the day, so a nightcap was off the cards, but would Emerald and I like to join her for ‘sleep preparation’ instead?

I did not know what to expect.

And now all three of us are covered in mud.

‘I do the mud as often as I can,’ Dita explains, lying prone on a massage table in her own private treatment room. ‘So excellent for the skin. And then we breathe the lavender to help with a good rest. So vital for good health when you are my age.’

Em and I sniff dutifully from the comfort of our own massage tables, which were speedily set up for us by a discreet member of staff when we arrived.

‘Totally,’ says Em. ‘Thank you for inviting us along!’

‘There was more than enough mud,’ Dita says. ‘And I do enjoy the conversation.’

‘How long do we keep the mud on for?’ I ask. My face feels like it’s been plastered in concrete and every time I smile, it cracks.

‘Another half an hour should do the trick. How are things with your lover, Yessica?’

‘Omg, he’s very much not my lover.’

‘Yet,’ chirps Emerald. ‘Those two are written in the stars, Dita, I can just tell.’

‘So tell me, what’s his star sign?’ Dita asks.

‘Oh my god, great question! I can’t believe I haven’t asked that myself yet,’ says Em.

‘Erm, I don’t know? I think he’s relatively close to Stella’s birthday and she’s a September baby.’

‘Yes, that’s right. You know when Stella and Fran went out to America to see him a couple of years ago? Didn’t they go for his birthday?’

‘Oh yeah, I think so.’

‘And that was mid-October. I remember because I’d got tickets for us to go to some new Christmas market thingy and Stella couldn’t make it, and she was horrified that Christmas markets even existed in October. She said that she doesn’t even think about Christmas until after Luke’s birthday. Remember?’

‘I mean, not really …’

‘Well, I do! He’s definitely mid-October which makes him a …’ Em twists her head from side to side to look at Dita and me, lying next to her.

I try to shrug but my shoulders have also been cemented into place.

‘LIbrA!’ they both cheer in unison.

‘Great,’ I say, trying to muster some enthusiasm to match. It is very cute that Em has found a fellow cosmic enthusiast in Dita. ‘So, erm, a set of scales?’ That’s literally all I’ve got.

Dita purrs like a cat. ‘A Libran. How divine for you, Yessica. The most attentive boyfriend in the zodiac, did you know that?’

‘Yes.’ Em claps. ‘So true. Level-headed, check. Mild-mannered, check.’

‘Sí sí. And people will flirt shamelessly with a Libra.’

‘Well, that’s definitely true,’ I huff, thinking of Croissants. ‘And also not exactly great from where I stand.’

‘The Libra takes this with a pinch of salt,’ says Dita.

‘Totally.’ Em nods wisely. ‘The very good-looking ones are also very well adjusted so they just shrug it off. It won’t go to his head. Wait!’ she shrieks. ‘Dita, you’ll never guess what sign Jessie is.’

‘I will guess.’ She sits up then, her face caked in mud, and looks closely at me. ‘Sagittarius,’ she announces.

‘How did you know?’ I gasp.

‘Dita is exceptional at this game.’ Dita shrugs.

‘And you know what that means, right?’ Emerald is on the edge of her own table now, legs swung off the side, practically giddy.

‘What?’ I ask warily.

‘Sagittarians and Libras are the perfect match!’ She claps again.

‘It’s true.’ Dita nods. ‘You share kindness and loyalty. You will have a strong and deep emotional connection.’

‘Deep connection, huh?’ I roll the words over in my mouth. ‘You know, Zodiac Girlie was talking about depth yesterday morning. Water gives way to emotional depth. And Dita, I haven’t told you yet but I actually nearly died in the sea yesterday, with Luke.’

Em gives Dita a she-didn’t-really shake of the head.

‘And then we kind of both told each other stuff we hadn’t really spoken about before,’ I say, before pulling myself up. ‘I’m getting carried away.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with getting carried away,’ says Dita firmly. ‘Especially when the stars have found you a perfect match.’

The perfect match. Surely that’s not possible. Is it?