The Spa Day Read Free Page B

the
patients are unconscious a lot of the time, or drugged up to the eyeballs, or
too ill, or don’t understand English. As I’m about to answer, I get the
teeniest twinge of anxiety about the whole Christmas with Clive’s family thing.
Why is that? It’s Clive! He’s my fiancé! These people will all be related to me
one day!
    ‘I’m staying with my fiancé’s family for a few days.’
    I almost said ‘my future in-laws’, but stopped myself just
in time. That’s a horrible phrase that people use! He starts work on my arms
with a bamboo that looks like it’s been cut in half down the middle. It only
hurts when he gently pushes it into my biceps.
    ‘That’ll be nice.’
    I must have grimaced involuntarily. He smiles at me.
    ‘Not nice?’
    ‘Well, his father can’t keep his eyes off my tits, his
mother keeps smiling at me as if I’ve got some terrible disease and only have a
few months to live, and his sister giggles like an idiot every time I speak.
Apart from that, I’m sure it’ll be delightful!’
    ‘Families, eh?’
    As he works the bamboo into my shoulders, I give a little
laugh without intending to.
    ‘Anything you want to share?’
    ‘I just realised that I’ve slagged my fiancé’s entire family off to a complete stranger! What must you think of
me?’
    ‘I think that you’re evil, spiteful and not worthy of their
charity! What does he do, your fiancé?’
    ‘He’s an investment banker. Don’t ask me what that means. He
works in Hong Kong.’
    ‘Hong Kong!’ James raises an eyebrow. ‘That must make it
difficult for surprise mid-week lunch dates and spontaneous trips to art
galleries! How often do you get to see him?’
    I suddenly realise that I don’t like talking about this. No
one at work mentions it anymore; neither do my friends, so it’s a little bit of
a shock.
    ‘He comes back when his company sends him for whatever
reason. It’s usually every three or four months.’
    Jesus. When you say that out loud, it sounds absolutely
fucking terrible.
    ‘Lucky guy!’
    Lucky? Why lucky?
    ‘Why lucky?’
    He puts the bamboo stick onto his little table and uses his
fingers to knead my trapezius muscles, where most of the knotting lies. Ow !
    ‘Well – that’s only three or four times a year! A lot of
women wouldn’t put up with that sort of appalling, selfish behaviour!’
    He says it in such a way that it’s funny, not rude or
insulting. I like him, gay or not. I’m trying to think of a response, but nothing
comes to mind.
    ‘OK. We’re finished for today. You’ve done very well.
Really. Most clients run away after just a few minutes of that. I’m going to
put a blanket over you and leave you to recover on your own for a while. When
you’re ready, you can get up and get dressed. Don’t steal the blanket.’ He wags
a finger at me. ‘And don’t forget to shower before using the pool! I’ll be
checking for droplets of oil on the surface later on.’
    As he closes the door, I close my eyes. Is that true, I
wonder? A lot of women wouldn’t put up with that? Perhaps I’m some sort of
saint! I take a deep breath. I feel like I’ve been run over by a car. The
driver stopped, looked in his rear view mirror and then reversed over me, for
good measure. I take another deep breath and turn over onto my side.

 
    Two

 
    After I have a shower (nice as it smells, it feels better to
get that massage oil off my skin) and get into my swimsuit, I sit down by the
side of the pool with a cup of herbal tea. There were three choices in the
teabag thingy: Kashmiri Green Thai tea, Goji Berry
Rooibos or Scarlet Glow (containing hibiscus and elderflower).
    I decided to go with Scarlet Glow as it sounded nicer than
the others. I’ve never been a great fan of herbal tea ( McVitie’s Milk Chocolate Digestives don’t taste the same when you dunk them in it!), but
this is actually quite nice. Whether it’s a habit I’ll continue when I get home
is something else, of course. I’ll