She laughs. ‘No, it’s nothing like that! It’s like a conference with workshops and meditation and roleplay and —’
‘And nooooo, thank you.’
‘I knew she wouldn’t go for it,’ Victoria says. ‘Way too close-minded.’
‘I am not!’ I reply. ‘I’m just not remotelynew age. Besides, this is next week. I have a business to run and a child to look after!’
‘All sorted,’ Victoria responds. ‘Tracey is covering your shifts and Charlie is staying with her lovely auntie Faith.’
Faith waves at me like I’ve forgotten who she is.
‘Mum, I think it sounds really cool!’ Charlie insists. ‘It’ll be like a little holiday. You can take your new toiletries!’
Ah, now it’s starting to make sense. The new pyjamas, the travel shampoos – they’re part of this plan. God, even my daughter wants to send me to cult camp. I take out the rest of the information from the envelope, but there isn’t much: a separate sheet with travel and contact information for a place called Cairn Castle Lodges and an email address for the organisers. ‘Where’s the rest of the info? Oh God, is it some kibbutz in the middle of a field? Am I going to have to share a bathroom? Are there even bathrooms?’
‘I would imagine so, given that it’s the twenty-first century. Stop being such a drama queen.’
‘Look, maybe this hippie stuff works for people who believe in it. I don’t need to sit cross-legged in a forest clearing making “ohmmmming” noises in order to know myself.’
‘It’s much more leading edge than that,’ Faith insists. ‘They charge five grand for the bootcamp.’
‘Five thousand pounds? Are you serious?’
‘Yes, so it’s hardly camper-van-loving tree huggers who’ll be there. Apparently, Lady Gaga attended one in New York.’
‘Don’t you try and use my love of Gaga against me, although to be fair, for five grand I’d expect Lady Gaga to be included in the price. How the hell did you afford this?’
‘I didn’t.’ Faith smirks. ‘It’s amazing what you can wrangle for free when you’re very good at your job. But it’s all arranged, and you cannot say no because they need equal numbers. I promised them you’d be there.’
I look at Victoria for help, but it’s futile. They’ve made up their minds. I stare at the contents of the envelope again.
‘I’ll go on one condition,’ I say. ‘And you have to agree, otherwise I’ll call them right now and cancel.’
They all nod in unison.
‘I will go to this bootcamp, and I will chant the chants and drink the Kool-Aid and when I return, you will drop all of this.’
‘All of what?’
‘This idea you have that I’m not happy because I’m not with someone. I’m so tired of hearing it! And, Charlie: your part of the deal is that you cannot tell your dad where I am. I cannot bear the thought of him thinking I’m so dysfunctional, that I’ve had to seek professional dating help. I’m at a business conference, that’s all you know.’
‘You shouldn’t care what Dad thinks,’ Charlotte replies. ‘But I wouldn’t tell him anyway.’
‘Do we have a deal?’ I ask.
‘Deal,’ they respond, in unison.
‘Fabulous,’ Faith replies. ‘Now, who’s for pavlova?’
As she brings out the cake, with one large sparkly candle instead of forty and they begin singing ‘Happy Birthday’, my stomach is in knots. I feel like the control I’ve worked so hard to maintain has been ripped away from me. The thought of not knowing what the next week holds is terrifying. I don’t want to navel gaze myself into oblivion with a bunch of strangers.
‘Happy birthday, Mum,’ Charlie says, and hugs me tightly. ‘Love you.’
But most of all I don’t want to leave Charlie for an entire week. Yes, she’s fourteen and yes, she’ll be fine… but it’s not her I’m worried about. It’s me. I’m not entirely sure who I am without her.
CHAPTER8
With only a few days to plan and pack, I feel a tad shell-shocked when it’s suddenly the morning of my trip. I don’t feel ready for this at all.
