‘I know.’ He smiles warmly at me. ‘That’s fine because whether you believe it or not, the universe, or God, or Source or whatever you want to call it, is working with you anyway. It will always respond to your vibration.’
I sigh. Brad may have perfectly shaped ears, but they’re just not listening to me.
‘Forget about the universe for a minute,’ he continues. ‘You will get what you want by believing and trusting in you. YOU, Nora. There is nothing in this world that you can’t have. It already exists, you just have to align with it to bring it into your experience and alignment comes from truly believing that you already have it.’
‘I don’t know how to do that.’
His hand grips mine a little tighter. ‘That’s why you’re here.’
I hear voices coming along the hallway as the rest of the bootcampers arrive for day two.
Brad moves his hand away and reaches for his notebook on the floor. ‘Enjoy this week, Nora. I have no doubt that you’re going to finally realise what an extraordinary woman you really are. Remember, the universe is always conspiring with you, not against you. I’ll see you later.’
I can’t help but blush as I return my chair to the front row and scurry towards the back where I’m more comfortable hiding out. Extraordinary? Me? What an odd thing to say, I’m the least extraordinary person I know, but I’ll admit, it’s flattering. Maybe he does like me?
Stop it, Nora. Get real. You might be self-sufficient and not entirely unattractive, but you are still the same woman whose skirt became entangled in the wheels of a Tesco trolley last week. Extraordinary people don’t have to ask security guards to cut them free while other shoppers look on. This is how lonely older women get duped by younger foreign men looking for citizenship. He. Does. Not. Fancy. You.
I give myself a shake before spotting Will heading towards me, looking as tired as I am but minus the red eye.
‘Alright, Nora! I was knocking on your door this morning until I remembered you had a hot date with the love guru over there. You look tired… Nora, did you bang the teacher?’
‘Keep your voice down!’ I reply. ‘People might think you’re serious!’
He shrugs, placing his coat on the back of his seat. This morning’s T-shirt is Metallica. He looks in better form this morning, almost like he’s made half an effort, rather than none at all.
‘Thanks again for helping with the tub. It was driving me crazy.’
‘No problem. There’s a safety catch on the right-hand side; you must have missed it.’
‘I know, I’m an idiot.’
‘Nah, you just didn’t know there was a safety catch.’
His response reminds me of Victoria. Whenever I declare my stupidity, she’s the first to remind me that not knowing something doesn’t constitute being a failure. I wonder how she’s getting on this week; I must text her later.
As I look around the room, I see that Brad was correct. There are a lot of wistful-looking faces this morning. I also notice that people are less fancy than they were yesterday. Perfectly curled dos are now thrown up in tight top knots, fully made-up faces are now highlight- and contour-free, false lashes are gone, but Russell is still clinging to his fedora for dear life.
Anna arrives just as we’re all seated and apologises for being late.
‘I had a small shower emergency,’ she explains, ‘I hope y’all will forgive my wet hair, but I didn’t want to waste a single second of your second day.’
As she starts introducing our tasks for day two, Will leans in and whispers, ‘Did you also feel like a bit of a plank, sitting alone in your hot tub?’
I nod. ‘Kind of, yeah.’
‘All I could think was, “I’m a grown man having a bubble bath outside”. I’ve never felt so emasculated.’
I snort and then cough to try and cover it up. ‘You men are so fragile.’
‘We are.’
‘So, after morning meditation, we’re going to start the first of our speed dating workshops. This will be done within your groups of ten.’
A few awkward giggles can be heard through the audience.
‘You’re here to re-establish yourselves as worthwhile romantic partners, so I want to find out exactly how you all interact and connect when making a first impression with a potential mate.’
I see one woman put her head in her hands. I guarantee she’s experienced speed dating before and it didn’t go well. I feel her pain. I attended one session in 2009 where I met a man who’d written thirty-six novellas about Swedish pirate hookers and lived with his gran.
