‘Have. You. Been. To. Gibraltar?’ Bea says.
‘Oh. Nope.’
The conversation pretty much carries on like that. I am uninspired and uninspiring. I just want some peace and quiet to decide what I’m going to say in my message to Lola (because I definitely am going to message her) and what I’m going to say to Nadia (I have to say something) and then I want to send the message and say the thing and then I want to go back to my flat and watch TV by myself to take my mind off everything else. And then get a full night’s sleep in my own bed.
Finally, everyone’s draining the last dregs of tea from their cups and looking ready to go. I don’t want to be the first to leave (I feel as though Nadia would think that it was because of her, which would of course be true, but I don’t want her to feel bad), but I’ll be very happy to be the second to leave. I just wantsomeoneto make a move.
There’s definitely a bit of shuffling and gathering of handbags now; this is it, hooray.
And then Carole, at the end of our table, stands up and says, ‘Thank you for coming, everyone. You’ve made a newly divorced woman very happy.’ After she’s said some more nice things, she continues with: ‘We have some prizes to announce.’ It takes a bit of time to get through them all. She concludes with the casino winners. ‘And in first place, to no-one’s surprise, I’m sure, is Nadia.’
I make sure that my cheering and clapping are at least as loud and generous as everyone else’s.
‘Come and collect your prize, Nadia.’
Nadia looks a little dark under the eyes this morning, and to me it seems as though the big smile she’s produced is a little forced. Her lack of sleep could be the reason but I can’t help worrying that it’s because she’s miserable.
We all clap again as Carole hands Nadia an envelope.
As Nadia opens it, Carole explains to us all that it’s vouchers for a massage in the spa of a nearby country hotel and a champagne lunch in the hotel’s restaurant. For today.Fortwo.
‘Thank you so much,’ Nadia says. Her smile isn’t reaching her eyes and her demeanour is that of a rabbit in headlights. She clearly has absolutely no choice but to stay and use the tickets. And, oh God. Oh no.
‘I thought, Tom, you might like to share the treat with Nadia.’ Carole’s smile is a lot realer-looking than Nadia’s.
Fuck.
I sit, also entirely a rabbit blinded by headlights, staring at Carole’s beaming face and Nadia’s pained expression.
I cannot think of a single thing that I can do other than say what a great treat. I can’t let Carole down or indicate that there’s any awkwardness between Nadia and me. I can’t consign Nadia to having to spend the day with a stranger. I really can only say thank you and then grit my teeth and bear it.
‘Wow,’ I say. ‘Great. Thank you.’
As everyone claps again and Bea and Ruth both tell me that I’m going to have awonderfulday, I go for some positive thinking. How bad can it really be? We can agree to read the news, catch up on emails while we’re having the lunch, and it can be a quick one. And who doesn’t love a massage? During which we obviously won’t have to talk.
It will be absolutely fine.
Definitely.
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, I enter the massage room in a white towelling dressing gown, very aware that Nadia will be in the same room and very aware that under the dressing gown I’m wearing only trunks and that Nadia is likely to be similarly under-clad.
Fortunately, the room contains two massage therapists and no Nadia yet.
Under instruction, I hop onto one of the beds and lie face down before my therapist switches my dressing gown for a towel.
I have my head turned away from the door, so that I won’t lock eyes with Nadia when she comes in, so I’m disappointed when it turns out that there are two doors and she’s come in through the other one, so I’m staring right at her dressing-gowned body for a moment. I give her a quick smile and turn my head the other way (trying my hardest to look as though I’m just adjusting into a better massage-receiving position rather than whipping my eyes from her as fast as humanly possible).
I’m going to enjoy this massage. I like them but I rarely get one. I am determined to take advantage of this.
‘You’re very tense,’ my therapist tells me.
Well of course I bloody am.
Actually, with the soothing music and the expert hands of the therapist, I do relax and begin to enjoy it, and I’m almost asleep and really not pleased when he quietly tells me that he’s finished.
Nadia’s has finished too, and I know that because her therapist tells us both that we can leave the room in our own time.
