Chapter Sixteen
Sixteen
‘Imagine yourself standing in a garden.’ Henrik’s voice was already giving me the feels, and the meditation had only just started. ‘Surrounded by plants. All your favourite plants, in bright colours, big leaves, beautiful flowers… and you spot a hammock hanging between two trees.’
I was on a heated yoga mat in the forest, covered in Greta’s blankets, so the idea of a garden full of plants wasn’t too far-fetched. But I wouldn’t have really said I had a favourite plant.
‘I want you to climb into that hammock,’ Henrik said softly, giving us time to make the mental move. ‘Nice and slowww. One foot, then the other, easing yourself in comfortably to rock in the warm breeze.’ I hadn’t once in my life eased comfortably into a hammock.
It always ended in an aggressive swinging tangle.
A bamboo screen had been put up to protect us from the wind, with bio-ethanol fires to keep us warm.
Chunky church candles in huge glass jars surrounded us in a circle for some extra zen.
Unless we were being sacrificed? Mum would say we were all insane, lying on the floor in the cold, but I felt safe and coddled.
And Henrik’s voice was really doing it for me.
I tried to sneak a peek of him in action, but his eyes found mine with a faux-disappointed shake of the head.
Watching me watching him. I couldn’t do anything but close my eyes and lie there feeling exposed.
‘There is nothing to worry about. Empty your mind of any thoughts and if something tries to creep in, just acknowledge it and send it on its way. This is your time. Your hammock time.’
My brain automatically heard Hammertime and MC Hammer entered the hammock in his baggy pantaloons. I acknowledged him and sent him on his way.
‘You are calm and relaxed. Safe.’ His Norwegian accent lilted. ‘Feel the ground beneath you. Breathe in… and out. Be in this moment, breathing in… and out.’
You can’t touch this.
Now he came to mention it, I could feel the ground beneath me, and there was a stone digging into my back. ‘You are at one with nature. You are from nature. In… and then… out.’ Nature was not very comfortable to lie on.
‘You are enough. Think of the words and say them in your mind. I am enough.’
There was a lot of deep breathing going on and Yuto was snoring next to me.
Henrik’s voice was sending everyone off to sleep, but it was having the opposite effect on me.
I was far too conscious of him standing over us to relax.
I couldn’t risk sleep-talking or dribbling on Greta’s blanket. I tried to focus on the mantra.
I am enough. Am I enough? How much exactly was enough these days? STOP thinking.
‘And now I want you to…’
Every time he said those words, I lost myself a little bit more.
His voice was so smooth and sexy – I’d have done anything he asked.
I was imagining his lips saying the words and his body next to mine.
His strong arms, and how easily they could scoop me up and carry me off.
We’d be back in my cabin in less than ten minutes…
‘Now slowly start to acknowledge your breath and feel the ground beneath your back. Wiggle your fingers and your toes…’
Bugger. It was just starting to get good and now I was back to thinking about that stone.
*
‘Hi again,’ Greta tinkled, opening the door to the Spa Hut and welcoming me inside.
‘Hei,’ I said, trying out my Norwegian. ‘I had no idea this place was here! Tore only mentioned the sauna when I asked about the Firefly spa.’
‘Honestly! Those Nilsen men!’ Greta laughed. ‘They don’t believe in the holistic side of things, or that it could be good for business. Tore especially. He thinks people only want the physical activities and forgets the part I do. And then no one knows so no one books.’
‘What a shame. I’d have been in here every day if I’d known.’
‘I only work weekends, so you haven’t missed out – it’s your first weekend here, isn’t it?’
I nodded. First and last, I thought to myself.
The hut was warm and lavender-scented with a massage table covered in fluffy blankets and a trolley-full of oils. Candles flickered from all the nooks and crannies and Greta led me to a snug seating area, poured me a herbal tea and handed me a clipboard.
‘You’re booked in for everything. Have you had reflexology before?’
‘Yes,’ I said, feeling very spoilt. ‘A few times.’ A few hundred times.
‘Good. Well, have a read through and sign at the bottom and we’ll get started.’
‘Great!’ I was so ready to relax.
She tinkered through her bottles, eventually selecting one and giving it a sniff. ‘I like to do a combination of reflexology and aromatherapy massage on the feet and legs, and a Reiki session at the end. Does that sound alright?’
‘It sounds amazing.’ She was talking my language. I had a quick scan through the form, ticked panic attacks and blood pressure and squiggled down my signature.
‘If you’d like to get under the blankets and stay face up,’ Greta said, pulling a curtain out of nowhere across the middle of the hut. ‘You can leave your clothes on the chair.’
‘All of them?’ I asked in a small voice. Did Scandinavians do everything in the nude?
Greta looked confused. ‘Just your socks and trousers. Unless you’d rather roll up the legs.’
‘No, no. Trousers off is fine.’ I was so tense! Of course she meant trousers – it was reflexology, not gynaecology.
Some calming violin music started as I climbed into the bed.
‘Ready?’ Greta called.
‘Yes.’
She slid back the curtain, and I kept my eyes closed as she adjusted the blankets and tucked me in.
The music was just loud enough that there was no question of having to talk, giving me permission to completely relax.
She uncorked the oil with a pop, and the air filled with jasmine as she started massaging my feet, working through the pulse points in each of my toes to get rid of the toxins.
Re-energising my ankles and calves, then finishing with some reiki magic.
She rang a bell to signal the end of the treatment and I immediately felt bereft.
‘There’s some water on the side for you,’ she whispered as I lay in post-massage bliss. I was taking this woman back to London with me. ‘Take your time getting dressed; there’s no rush.’
The music clicked off five minutes later and I was still sat there in a daze. I shook myself up and got dressed. ‘That was such a treat.’ I said with a yawn, sliding back the curtain.
Greta smiled. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it. Put this on over your clothes to walk back.’ She handed me a big, fleecy jumper and I did as I was told. ‘It’ll help keep your body heat in.’
She’d thought of everything. Five and a half stars.
I put my head down and walked fast to try and stay warm.
My phone vibrated as I marched past the Wi-Fi lounge, but I didn’t hang around.
My only focus was getting back to the cabin to sit in front of the fire.
This was my life now, going from one extreme type of relaxation to the next.
I stumbled in, got my pyjamas on, then noticed the messages flashing.
Jimbo: Paint looks cracking :) I’ve given it three coats.
He’d sent some photos and the painting was all finished, the creams and browns now covered over with the Chelsea colour palette. I hadn’t expected it to feel so weird, seeing my old life painted into my King’s Cross pad. My marital home infiltrating my single girl flat.
Mark: I’ve booked to come and check it out like you suggested.
Mark: Arriving a week Wednesday.
I was jolted out of my reverie.
What?
He’d booked to come here? No. He must mean something else.
I re-read his message. Like I’d suggested?
When? I scrolled back through our messages.
What the hell was he talking about? My post-spa zen had gone and I couldn’t even call him to find out.
What to do, what to do? If I told him I was heading back to London, he’d know I’d lied about how amazing it was.
Although I had to admit it had turned a corner.
If I carried on as planned, he’d turn up a week on Wednesday and I wouldn’t be here, but if I stayed, he’d completely ruin any relaxation vibes.
What did he want? There was only one way to find out.
I’d have to change my bloody flight again and write off another two hundred quid.