Chapter 25
DAY FOUR
BEN
When my sisters have issues with work, marriage, kids, money, their health, there is always obvious frustration.
The way they let go is by doing many things.
They have a bath. They book a spa day. It’s like some magical formula that straightens things out.
The baths I’m familiar with from living with them as a teenager: they would be lengthy.
I’d usually have to interrupt, asking them not to hog the hot water and afterwards I’d wonder why it smelt like our nan’s downstairs bathroom.
But with spas, I never really knew what was happening.
Only that they always came back renewed with a dewy finish to their complexions and ready to take on the world again.
It was a sisterly tradition that I never partook in but once, Norah came back with big circular burn patterns on her back. Cupping, apparently.
Feeling inspired to recreate a spa experience this morning, I Googled cupping and a lot of strange things came up.
However, other searches came back with activities I could do.
I could whip up face masks and some detox-style smoothies, light some incense, play some chillout music and paint their nails.
I didn’t tell them that I know how to do this because I trained myself as a teen.
My sisters used to give me a fiver for each manicure and sometimes bring their friends round too. It was a great side hustle.
So armed with all this knowledge, I went into town this morning and bought supplies.
And I bought another melon for Chloe. I also picked up some more sunflowers for her room.
It pained me to see her so unhappy yesterday when she received that awful news.
I knew a bath might help but I didn’t know how to make her see that losing her job at that horrific practice could be a good thing.
As much as she may consider it a failure, it was also a way to find a job that recognised her worth.
So face masks it was, and slippers, which I found in a box in the villa that I think Uncle Lorenzo may have bagged from a nearby Holiday Inn.
‘How is that?’ I ask Chloe as she lies back on a sun lounger and I apply a face mask to her forehead and cheeks.
I glance at her leg bent at the knee, cocked up, and her dressing gown reveals more than it should.
I shouldn’t look. The last thing she needs now is me going in from that angle.
That came out wrong in my own head. I guess she doesn’t need me to complicate matters or try and solve this with sex. Just give her space and time.
‘It’s lovely,’ she says, her eyes closed. ‘You made these?’
‘I did. I did some research this morning. This one is made with turmeric and manuka honey; it has great anti-inflammatory properties and it will leave you with a radiant complexion,’ I say. I see the smirk on her face. ‘Was that funny?’
‘No, Mr Body Shop – you carry on,’ she says.
I would be offended but I’m pleased that her little joke makes her face relax.
Zara lies on the other side of the pool, cucumber covering her eyes, having a little snooze while Jess is listening to a podcast with her AirPods in.
I continue to lightly apply the face mask but I also touch her shoulder gently, watching as her hand comes to rest over mine.
‘So what else can we expect from our spa day?’ she asks.
‘Oh, it’s top-end stuff. I’ve put lemon and mint into some water bottles,’ I tell her.
‘Classy.’
‘I bought some wheatgrass and made shots—’
‘Cleansing.’
‘And then later I’m rolling out the garden hose for some colonics,’ I say casually. Watching Chloe’s face crease up into a thousand lines at my joke is everything. ‘I feel like I’m really nailing it.’
‘And with the puns too. Just a few observations,’ she says.
‘My suggestions box is open…’
‘The shorts aren’t small enough. When I see spas on TV, the men always look slightly indecent,’ she says.
‘That would indicate you watch porn set in a spa,’ I whisper loudly to her.
Chloe laughs and the sound is like music.
‘What about when you go to spas? Does this compare?’ I ask.
‘I don’t go to spas,’ she says, shrugging her shoulders. ‘I’ve just never known—’
‘How to treat yourself?’ I suggest.
She purses her lips and briefly opens her eyes to look at me. Her eyes had brightened yesterday but now they seem tired and misty. They’re still beautiful though. I get a kick that they’re looking right at me.
‘Now,’ I say, trying to distract from the intensity of the moment. ‘You have been painted. You look…’ I want to say beautiful without sounding corny. ‘Like a very happy mango.’
‘Exactly what every woman aspires to…’
‘Stay still, relax, let this de-inflammate you,’ I instruct her.
‘Is that a proper word?’ she asks.
‘Yes. We’ll do a pedicure after lunch,’ I reply. ‘We need to get something inside you.’
‘Oi oi,’ she says. I blush to see her cheeky side emerging in the sun.
‘I meant food. You haven’t eaten. Let’s have an early lunch, some fruit maybe.’
‘Let’s…’ Chloe’s voice trails off.
I touch her arm again but take my leave and head to the kitchen.
There’s me going there under the pretence of making lunch but really my proximity to Chloe is driving me insane.
Touching her skin, being close to her but not being able to fully embrace her after yesterday is tougher than I thought.
I need to go and stand in front of a fridge.
Calm down. This is a reputable spa. Do I really know what these face masks are doing?
Only from what Google is telling me but seeing Chloe happy and the other women incredibly relaxed tells me that I might be winging this well.
Even if it all goes wrong, maybe I can stun them again with the food?
Today, it’s peach, ginger and lime juice with a Manchego and pear salad for lunch.
I unwrap the cheese gently from its waxed paper, cutting a little slice for myself and savouring its buttery texture.
I’ve made fresh bread, I’ve bought many olives as per usual.
I slice the bread carefully and arrange it in a basket before cutting the melon.
I hack off a wedge and then carve a piece into a little heart shape.
That’s too much. I eat the heart. Maybe I should have gone with another fruit instead of lovebombing Chloe with melon. Love. Too soon. Definitely.
At first I don’t hear the screaming. And when I do, I panic that someone’s in trouble in the pool, but I look out the window and see Chloe running up and down the patio.
Crap, maybe she’s choking on the seed and nut mix I left out.
I rush out to see her shaking her bright-yellow face from side to side like a blur.
Oh my days, she’s not allergic to it, is she?
She’s taken off her robe and is wearing knickers and a vest top that look like they’re part of a pyjamas set.
They’re incredibly revealing but maybe now’s not the time to mention that.
Zara is standing beside her, trying to examine her face. ‘Oh my, are those… ants?’
My eyes widen in horror.
‘They’re crawling all over my face!’ Chloe shouts.
Jess jumps up from her sun lounger, stamping on things that I think might not be there. ‘Ants? What sort of ants? Like fire ants?’ she asks in alarm.
I walk over to Chloe and notice one crawling across her cheek. I try and flick it off. ‘Owww, why are you flicking me?’
‘I’m trying to get the ant off. I think they must have been attracted to the honey in the face mask,’ I say, mortified.
‘You mean they’re eating my face?’ she asks, her mouth open in shock.
‘Is this a spa thing?’ Zara squeals. ‘Like those fish that eat the dead skin off your feet?’
‘Like leeches?’ Jess screams.
‘GOD, NO!’ I say, trying to reach for Chloe but she’s moving too fast.
Jess throws a glass of water at Chloe’s face in panic and she freezes in disbelief. ‘I’m so sorry, Chloe!’
‘Have any gone up my nose? In my ears?’ Chloe asks, clawing at her face.
‘I saw an episode of something about that. They’ll get to your brain!’ Zara shrieks.
Chloe shakes her head even faster until her hair is a complete blur.
There’s a mass of noise and conjecture, and Jess is still stamping on something on the ground.
I’ve not researched the ants here. Are they poisonous?
I have no idea so I suddenly grab her. ‘I’m so sorry!
’ I yell in warning. ‘Hold your breath!’
‘My what?’
‘Now!’
And with that I push her into the pool, clinging onto her.
She screams. I hear Jess and Zara doing the same from the side of the pool.
The coolness of the water hits me sharply but I hold onto Chloe to make sure she’s safe and resurfaces.
As her head bobs up, the remnants of the face mask melt off and she levers her hands on to my shoulders to steady herself.
‘What the…?’ she says, gasping for breath.
‘I’m so sorry… are you alright?’ I ask, pushing her hair back from her face.
Shock turns to hilarity as Chloe cackles loudly, throwing her head back. ‘Is that all part of the service then?’ she says, giggling.
‘Only for my favourite customers, madame,’ I reply, holding her close so she can stay afloat.