Chapter 16 #2
When the masseuses return, our full body massages begin and while at first, I must admit that it is a little odd to be so aware of Megan right next to me, eventually I relax.
It’s impossible not to as the masseuse works the tension out of my muscles.
I’ve found massages extremely valuable recently, especially when it comes to the pain in my limbs.
I can’t remember if I told Henry that or not.
I’m so relaxed I almost fall asleep but then I’m jolted from dozing by Megan hissing, ‘Mum, stop it.’
‘Huh? Stop what?’
‘Making those sounds,’ she huffs.
I frown in confusion. ‘I didn’t realise I was making any sounds.’
‘Those soft “ah” and “ooh” sounds.’
‘I apologise, I didn’t realise. I will try not to make any “ah” and “ooh” sounds.’
‘Just don’t make any sounds.’
‘Understood.’
It’s hard to relax after that because I’m concentrating so hard on not making any sounds that I had no idea I was making in the first place.
But the massage is still wonderful and when it comes to an end, I’m reluctant to move.
They tell us we can take our time getting ready, but as soon as the door shuts behind them, I hear Megan spring from her bed and put her robe back on.
‘Wasn’t that amazing?’ I say.
‘Yeah,’ she says, before I hear the door swing open again. ‘I’m going to the pool. See you in a bit.’
I wait for her to leave and then I push myself up, slipping into my robe and waltzing out the door without a trouble in the world. It’s not until I’m at the pool that I realise what I’ve forgotten and I spin round, scurrying back to the room where I find my masseuse preparing for her next client.
‘Sorry,’ I smile at her, picking up the box from the floor and holding it up. ‘I forgot my ex-husband.’
I leave her to ponder for the rest of time whether she misunderstood what I said or whether I was unstable enough to have my ex-husband’s ashes escort me to a massage and go to join Megan at the pool. The lounger next to her is free. I gesture to it.
‘May I?’
She gives a small nod.
Placing the box on the table between the loungers, I sit down and make myself comfortable, lying back and resting my hands on my stomach. A member of staff glides over to offer me a drink and I order a sparkling water with lemon.
‘Isn’t this fabulous,’ I remark, watching someone swim calmly down the length of the pool. ‘I hope you enjoyed your massage.’
‘I’m very oily now.’
‘Yes, but it’s good for you. And smells amazing,’ I point out, bringing my forearm up to my nose to give it a sniff. ‘Delicious. I smell like I’ve been bathed in rose petals and lavender. Thank you, Henry. You are officially forgiven for the Pyrenees adventure.’
Megan turns to look out at the view, but I catch the small smile she’s wearing at the mention of the Pyrenees and I know she’s thinking about the vulture and the bra. I smile, too.
‘So,’ I begin, having decided this morning that I was going to bring this up again sooner rather than later, ‘tell me more about this book you wrote.’
She sighs, irritated. ‘I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’
‘I disagree. Either way, you have now, so we might as well talk about it.’
‘I’d rather not,’ she mumbles.
‘Why do you say that?’
‘Do you like dwelling on your failures?’
I look at her, the little crinkle between her eyebrows, the hardened jaw, the straight mouth. Guard up.
‘Is that what you think it is, a failure?’ I say, resting my head back against the chair and closing my eyes.
‘What other way to see it is there?’ she says sharply. ‘It got rejected by everyone. No one liked it.’
‘I might have liked it.’
She snorts, muttering, ‘No, you wouldn’t have. It was terrible.’
‘Was all of it terrible?’
‘What do you mean?’
I open my eyes and turn my head to face her. ‘Was the plot terrible? The characters? The story line? The structure? The prose? The speech? The narrator? What was it exactly that was terrible?’
She’s staring at me, confused. ‘I . . . I don’t know. I can’t remember.’
‘You should take another look at it, then. If you thought it had something at the time, then maybe it did. Maybe you needed someone to help you find out what was terrible about it and then you could fix it. If you’re seeing one rejected manuscript as a huge failure, then you’ll be shocked when you find out how many huge failures I have to my name. ’
‘You’re a famous published author. You know you’re brilliant.’
‘No, I don’t, and if I did then I wouldn’t be.’
‘Okay, that doesn’t make any sense,’ she huffs.
‘The best writers are the ones who always think there’s more to learn,’ I say, watching a woman bob by the side of the pool and gesture for her partner to join her in there.
‘The ones I admire seem to constantly be trying to better their last book, perfect their craft. They experiment, take risks, push themselves. Sometimes it pays off, sometimes it doesn’t.
’ I frown as I reflect on how I haven’t taken a risk in years. The same old story.
She looks down, picking at her nail. She used to do that when she was a kid.
‘Have you really had manuscripts rejected before or are you saying that to make me feel better?’ she checks.
‘I’ve had many manuscripts rejected before, Megan,’ I tell her, unable to stop a smile spreading.
‘And thank fuck for that. If they had been published, my reputation would have been destroyed in one fell swoop. In fact—’ I pause, swallowing a lump that’s forming in my throat ‘—I haven’t had a manuscript accepted in a long time.
Which is why my publisher decided to cut the cord. ’
Megan snaps her head up, squinting at me. ‘What?’
‘Mm,’ I say by way of confirmation. ‘I’ve been officially “dropped”, as they say. Desperate, isn’t it. I’m not sure how I’ll stand the humiliation when it gets out, but I suppose there’s always burlesque clubs and Class A drugs.’
I laugh at my joke. Megan doesn’t.
‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ she says as though she means it. ‘I know how much your career means to you.’
I’m surprised by her earnestness and worry there’s a dash of resentment in there, too. It would be understandable if there was. I quickly work to lighten the tone. ‘Oh, it’s fine. These things happen. I suppose they’re right, I’m out of touch when it comes to romance.’
‘That’s what they said?’
‘Things move on,’ I state firmly, nodding. ‘I need to evolve, too. I am getting on, that’s life. The only problem is, I only ever wanted to write romance. I don’t know how to do anything else. I’m a bit lost, actually.’
Megan suddenly looks furious, her brow furrowed, her eyes flashing. ‘You’re not too old to write romance, Mum. It’s never too late to fall in love, right?’
I blink at her. ‘Oh! Uh. No, you’re right. It’s never too late.’
‘There you go, then.’ She nods firmly as though that’s that and then a flash of curiosity crosses her expression as she stares at me. ‘What? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Oh, it’s just, you look like him when you’ve made up your mind about something.’
Her face relaxes. ‘I got his stubbornness.’
I turn back to look at the pool. ‘You think I should carry on, then?’
‘Yeah, I think you should,’ she says in her usual matter-of-fact tone. ‘Don’t you?’
‘Well, I have to write something. What about you? Are you going to find the courage to try again?’ I ask cautiously.
She snorts. ‘Mum, you know it’s got nothing to do with courage.’
‘Actually, that’s all it is,’ I maintain loftily.
‘I’ve been exactly where you are, all writers have.
You have to make a choice. Are you going to fight that instinct burning inside of you because you’ve been knocked down?
Or are you brave enough to admit to yourself that writing is not something you do, it’s part of who you are. It’s how you make sense of everything.’
She doesn’t say anything, processing my words with her lips pressed tightly together, her eyes on the pool.
‘I know I said this when we were camping, but to reiterate, if ever you do have another whack at it, I’m here if you want someone to read it. Someone you can trust to give you a full and honest opinion.’
She emits a burst of laughter. ‘That’s what I’d be afraid of.’
‘The opinion would come with a personal sidenote.’
‘Which would be?’
‘That I’m proud of you for trying. It takes guts,’ I say, and even though she doesn’t respond to that except to say she’s going to go for a swim, I’m glad I’ve said it. It’s the sort of thing I think we all need to hear once in a while.