I turn to a page at the back of my own book and reply:
How aboutYOUR WIFE?
Dimples. He scribbles back:
She only married me for my nihilism. She’d reject my gratitude.
I turn to the front of my notebook and write THINGS I’M GRATEFUL FOR in capitals on the first page. This should be easy. I have a wonderful life.
My daughter
My family and friends.
My business.
I draw a blank. This can’t be right. I can’t only be grateful for three things? There must be something else, but what?
Olivia Colman?
I look around and everyone else is happily scribbling away while Will and I seem to be contemplating how utterly ungrateful we are. I peer over to see what he’s written, hoping for inspiration.
Boobs
I throw him my bestare you serious?look which is hard to do behind my glasses but he obviously understands as he whispers, ‘What? It’s true. I am.’
‘You can’t write that!’ I insist, embarrassed that I’m anywhere near him. ‘It’s offensive.’
‘To who?’
‘Me!’
He starts writing again.
All boobs except Nora’s boobs.
He then covers his work with his hand and turns away from me. It’s like dealing with an eight-year-old.
‘All finished?’ Anna asks. ‘Good. Now I want you to do this daily, upon rising. Give your gratitude to the universe for the beautiful things and people and experiences that have brought you joy. That feeling you get when you sit and think about them, is the feeling which will attract the next good feeling, and the next. This is the bliss you will bring forth when you move on to step two in this process – scripting the next great love of your life.’
CHAPTER14
We have a thirty-minute break before our final session of the day (another meditation) and although it’s only 4pm, I’m exhausted already. I take some tea from the machine and step outside to get some air, moving past the smokers and out towards the gardens to the side of the house. I say ‘garden’, it’s pretty much a private meadow because for some reason the rich need a lot of grass. To the right, I spy a small, iron bench near a ceramic bird bath and take a seat, sipping on my tea while my arse gets used to the freezing metal it’s perched upon. I’ve only been away for one day, but it feels longer. Charlie will have barely noticed I’m gone, but she’s in familiar surroundings. I’m miles away, surrounded by strangers and being followed around by a grizzly bear of a man. Honestly, doesn’t he have work to be getting on with?
Will sits beside me and grimaces. ‘I just had to speak to some woman called Briony from Essex. It was awful. She was about twelve and held my hands for no reason. Both of them.’
I can’t help laughing. ‘Maybe she thinks the universe sent you for hand-holding.’
‘I don’t care if she thinks FedEx sent me, I’m not into it.’
He sticks his violated hands into his pockets and leans back. ‘Fancied a little time to yourself?’ he asks, already knowing the answer. ‘Some privacy to script your new boyfriend?’
‘I don’t want a new boyfriend,’ I answer swiftly. ‘I never did. It’s my idiot friend and sister who think I do.’
‘Nah, I see the way you look at your man Brad,’ he replies. ‘That’s the look of a woman with a working libido.’
‘Doesn’t mean I want to date him!’ I insist, which is a complete lie because if he asked me out, I’d be updating my Facebook relationship status before we even sat down to dinner.
Will isn’t buying it, but thankfully he leaves it alone, instead telling me that it’s time for meditation.
