Page 37 of Who’s That Girl?

‘And then we’re going to apply a cleanser to draw out impurities and clean pores.’

With Suki’s fingertips gently massaging my face in a circular motion I can feel myself drifting off. Gosh, this is rather lovely.

‘Followed by a special mask made of clay minerals that will revitalise the skin and help balance out skin tone …’

Mmm, this is bliss. Sheer, unadulterated bliss.

‘… because you’ve got rather a lot of sun-damage.’

‘What?’ Jolted out of my reverie, my eyes snap open.

Clucking her tongue reprovingly, she continues massaging. ‘All over your cheeks and forehead’ – I stiffen – ‘resulting in quite severe pigmentation and discolouration.’

Severe pigmentation and discolouration?

‘But I always use sunscreen,’ I cry with alarm.

‘Mmm,’ she murmurs, and continues massaging.

‘SPF forty-five,’ I say urgently, trying to sit upright, but she pushes me back down firmly.

‘Ssh, relax,’ she soothes. ‘You’re very tense.’

‘And I never sunbathe,’ I protest, but I’m muffled by a hot flannel as she wipes off the cleanser and begins rubbing on a thick layer of clay. Actually, this facial is getting a bit irritating.

‘Eight-five per cent of irreversible sun-damage is caused before the age of twenty-five,’ she intones. She stops sweeping clay across my temples and fixes me with a beady eye. ‘Did you sunbathe in your youth?’

My memory produces a snapshot of me slathered in baby oil and frying in the midday sun. Actually, there’s not just the one snapshot; there are whole albums full of them. From my teenage years right through to my late twenties I would dive into a bikini at the first ray of sunshine.

‘A little,’ I fib, under the beady glare of Suki.

‘Well, that explains it.’ She nods, arching an eyebrow and tutting. ‘The sun is the skin’s number-one enemy. It causes premature ageing, fine lines, wrinkles, sagging, loss of collagen …’

As she reels off a long list of terrible things I’ve done to my skin, I listen with horror.

‘Isn’t there anything I can do?’ I ask anxiously, clutching my face.

‘Well, we do have some specialist laser treatments that could help.’ Suki passes me a leaflet.

I glance at the price list. ‘Five hundred pounds?’ I gasp.

‘I’d recommend a course of five or six sessions.’

Five or six? That means … Hurriedly I do the calculations. That’s a fortune! I glance up at Suki, who’s smiling at me brightly.

‘Would you like me to book your first session today?’

‘Um … I think I might wait.’

‘Are you sure that’s wise? We’re giving away complimentary foot rubs as part of a special promotion …’ she continues with her sales pitch.

I’m beginning to feel quite stressed. I only wanted a relaxing facial.

‘… and I would also recommend a whole new range of products to treat your damaged skin—’

‘Excuse me, but I think the five minutes might be up,’ I interrupt as she draws breath.

‘Oh, yes, so they are.’ She smiles, taking two cotton-wool pads and wiping my face clean. ‘Well, if you change your mind …’ She hands me a card and a bag. ‘Here are some free samples for you to try.’