It’s already getting dark outside, but I step out onto the deck anyway to admire the view. The site map indicates that there are fifty cabins in total, which I’m assuming means forty guests plus staff will all be staring bemusedly at each other first thing tomorrow morning. I can see the glow of the hot tub lights from several cabins and hear a woman laughing in the distance. The loch is very still, almost eerie, making me fully aware that I’m a woman, alone, in a remote cabin by a lake with a pretty terrible phone signal. I might as well be wearing a T-shirt saying FINAL GIRL.
Slightly unnerved, I move back inside, lock the patio doors and connect to the Wi-Fi. If I’m going to be murdered out here, they can wait until I’ve made sure that Faith remembers Charlie’s orthodontist appointment tomorrow. Her phone rings twice before she answers.
‘Hey! Are you there already?’
I plop down on to the beige couch and kick off my boots. ‘I just arrived. It’s gorgeous,’ I reply, feeling the warm floor through my socks. ‘Spookily quiet though. Like Camp Crystal Lake but with accessible roads and internet.’
I hear her snigger before she covers the mouthpiece and yells at someone across the office. ‘Sorry, it’s crazy in here today.’
‘I thought you were taking time off?’ I almost yelp. ‘What about Charlie?’
‘Oh, relax, Eleanora,’ she snaps back. ‘I’m picking her up in half an hour. I just popped into the office to take care of something. And no, before you say it, I haven’t forgotten she has the orthodontist tomorrow.’
‘I didn’t think you had!’ I reply, totally thinking that she had. ‘I was only checking in. Tell Charlie to call me later?’
She agrees and hangs up, leaving me with only my warm feet for company. I don’t quite know what to do with myself, it’s pathetic.
I turn on the television for background noise and take the itinerary out of the envelope, curious to see what lies ahead.
Meditation with Brad, Healthy Dating Workshop, Group Healing, Manifestation & Visualisation, Eye Energy Transfer, Redefining Love, Affirmation Workshop
The list goes on and on. What the hell have I let myself in for? Who the hell is Brad? What exactly is Eye Energy? Oh God, I feel a bit sick. It seems intense – 9am to 5pm every day with a couple of breaks and there’s even a mentor thrown in for one-to-one support. Why the hell would I need individual support? What are they going to do to me? It won’t be long until I find out as the first class,‘Welcome to the New You’, is at 9am tomorrow in the main house. I hope the new me has a smaller arse.
CHAPTER10
BOOTCAMP: DAY 1
My alarm goes off at 7.30am.
There’s a small chink in the bedroom blinds but it’s still dark outside, the morning silence only interrupted by the stirring of birds and a breakfast van dropping off its continental contents outside the door of each cabin.
I switch off my alarm, text Charlie good morning then count to five before throwing back the covers, reluctant to leave this very expensive, very comfortable bed.
How bad can it be, really?I think, my feet slipping into a pair of complimentary flip flops. I’ll simply show up, participate and then scurry back here to binge my way through the seven hundred true crime documentaries on my phone. It’ll be fine.Think of it as a holiday, Nora, everyone deserves a holiday.
I take a quick shower and throw on one of the heavy white bathrobes before retrieving my breakfast from outside the door, delightfully presented in a small, woven picnic basket. I’m not particularly hungry yet, but don’t want to be the phantom stomach growler in a hall full of strangers. I force myself to demolish a croissant before taking my coffee out onto the deck to admire the view because that’s what people do in the movies.
I can hear the rumble of next door’s hot tub running but the cabins are cleverly positioned so that no one can see each other, for which I’m grateful. No one needs to view me flailing around in last year’s swimsuit. I attempted to work my hot tub last night before discovering that lifting a heavy lid on my own in the dark was trickier than expected. It’s ironic that I’ve come on a singles’ retreat which requires two people to access the fun stuff. I’ll tackle it again after dinner when I can see what I’m doing. As beautiful as the view is, I last approximately four minutes in the cold morning air with no knickers on before retreating inside.
Deciding that jeans and a T-shirt are a good option for the first morning, I pull my hair back into a high ponytail, praying that everyone else won’t turn up in yoga pants and crab-walk past me while I stand there looking like a frumpy soccer mom. I pull on my coat, leave the cabin and start the ten-minute walk to the main house. I’d preferred to have driven but according to the literature, the walk willhelp remove any morning worries or negativity.I could argue that walking anywhere makes me intrinsically more negative, but I’m not looking to cause trouble on my first day.
I stick in my earbuds and begin plodding up the road, noticing at least ten other guests doing the same. Perhaps Nirvana isn’t the chilled vibe I should be aiming for, but I’m going with it. Charlie always makes fun of my musical tastes, despite the fact we share a lot of the same tracks on our playlists, but I get it. A song instantly becomes less cool when your mum sings along.
Thankfully, there’s not a yoga-panted arse in sight; in fact, everyone is dressed relatively normally – hoodies, jeans, skirts, boots – except the one guy in a fedora. Well, there’s always one. The only thing that hints at the calibre of the guests are the handbags. I’ve never seen so much designer leather in my life.
We all nod politely at each other, some listening to music, some striking up conversations with whoever is closest, and by the time we reach the main house, we join the others inside the main doors. It’s a varied group, from late twenties to fifties, lots of lip fillers and brow work and certainly not the new-age, socially awkward undateables I was expecting.
The entrance lobby of the house is stunning. A huge white staircase to the left, polished wooden floors, fresh flowers in every corner and an archway to the right where a woman in her thirties with shiny brown hair stands, beaming at everyone.
‘A warm welcome to you all. My name is Miranda. If you’d all like to follow me through to the hall please, we can get started.’
Miranda has clearly never met a workout she didn’t like. Even through her heavy jumper, I can still see her abs. It’s times like this where I wish I’d followed through with that plan I had to go to Zumba once, back in 2010. She bounds off through the archway and we all follow, sucking in our stomachs.
As I walk into the main hall, I spot a podium at the front with a large projector screen, displaying the company logo and white chairs set out in rows, each with a notepad and pen on the seat. To the side are tea and coffee machines, bottled water and what looks like sandwiches and finger foods all neatly laid out and covered in clingfilm. I watch as the seats fill up quickly, some people scrambling to get near the front. I choose to sit near the back where I won’t be picked on to participate in anything weird. I spot an empty chair between a woman in her fifties wearing a patchwork skirt and a man in a polo shirt with a heavy beard and plonk myself down, placing my notepad and pen on my lap. I tighten my ponytail and breathe a sigh of relief. My anxiety was for nothing. I’m here. It’s fine. So far so—
‘This is a nightmare. Even being in the same room as you makes me want to vomit.’
I turn towards the direction of the growling voice to see patchwork woman looking furious. But she’s not looking at me. She’s looking through me to the bearded man on my right.
