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A bow-fronted late nineteenth-century red-brick building looms up on the corner of Mount Street and Carlos Place. At the entrance is a white-columned portico with a small balcony that reminds me of a howdah on stilts rather than on the back of an elephant. The balcony sports the name in green, which stands out against the white paint.
The other is on a green-painted wrought iron structure within the columns, the name in gilt. Potted topiary grace the entrance on both sides. Two signs announce the name of the hotel, one near the top of the wooden portico, and as we step through, a doorman dressed in a dove-gray jacket, black slacks, and a top hat greets us and ushers us inside.
Before we start, Viktoria steers us to the Aman Store, where she tries out their various fragrances, asking me how I like them. She decides on Zuac, inspired by Marrakech. The combination of pink pepper, tangerine, clove, saffron, Frankincense, patchouli and vetiver make a wonderful combination that doesn’t cause an allergic reaction. The girls are all enthusiastic too, so she buys a bottle for each of us. I appreciate her willingness to abandon her signature scent for the sake of my allergies.
The spa provides us with robes, some kind of herbal infusion, and foot baths to relax and prepare us for the rest of the day. We have access to the spa facilities for up to two hours before the treatments begin. We all decide to swim, although I plan to stay out of the water as much as possible. Then we’ll use the steam room. Because Viktoria is a member, we have access to the gym, but none of us are interested.
“Lifting weights and running on a treadmill.” Meggy’s mouth twists in disgust. “Swimming is so much better.”
Hah! I like the treadmill, but I know I need to hang around the pool with the ladies. After I shake off a few calls to take a plunge, chatting is minimal in the pool as everyone else does laps.
During the steam stage, I ignore the talk surrounding me as I think about Max and how, even after an hour or two, I miss him. This trip has shown me how much I crave his nearness. He has become an integral part of my life and I wonder how I lived without him all these years.
After the swim and steam, we go to the lounge.
“We have most of the spa to ourselves for the day.” Viktoria explains as we wait to begin our various treatments.
“Are we all having the same things?” It’s not really the spa that I can’t stand, it’s the group experience. I went a couple of times when volunteer groups I worked with won them as prizes and never enjoyed being in a big room with a bunch of women all obsessing over nail polish colors and facial treatments. Even the recent one with Micki had a fraught manicure session where both Micki and the nail technician both tried to talk me into weird varnishes.
“There are five treatment rooms for us. One double and the others single. You and I will share, Cress. I hope you don’t mind. They asked to keep one free in case the club needs it for a hotel guest.”
My stomach heaves as I imagine the questions she might ask. Why did I indulge in breakfast? A piece of toast and coffee would stay down better.
“Mamoushka, I hope you aren’t planning an inquisition.” Meggy scowls at Viktoria. “I can share with Mum if you’d rather have a private room, Cress.”
“No one expects the Spanish Inquisition,” Liz and Diana intone.
I picture sitting in a comfy chair, being poked with soft cushions. Monty Python invades so many facets of life.
“Certainly not,” Viktoria retorts. “I am not Torquemada.”
My skin prickles as the intensity rises. “I’m fine sharing.” I’m not, but I swallow down my unease. Thinking of the different treatments and the fact that therapists will be in the room, I assume we won’t have much opportunity for conversation, anyway.
“You and I will do the nourishing treatments, Cress, as will Meggy. Wonderful stress relief. Liz asked for the purifying journey. You probably don’t know yet, but Diana is pregnant.”
“Yeah, we were floored. Les and I didn’t expect another baby at our age.” Trepidation underlines Diana’s comment.
We all offer enthusiastic congratulations, but I wonder how Sean is taking the news. The prospect of a new sibling could upend everything for him.
Viktoria goes on. “She will have the body nurturing treatment. It’s shorter than the other two, but…”
Then we are called in for consultations before the ritual journeys begin. Viktoria and I settle on adjoining massage tables, towels discarded, light sheets covering us. A therapist comes in and lays hot stones on our backs.
“This will help relax the muscles. My colleague and I will be back in a few minutes to start the massage.”
I hate lying on my stomach, but I try not to squirm. Having the stones slide off my back would be more embarrassment than I could stand. I turn my head to the side, contemplating the blurred, narrow slice of the room.
“Cress.” Viktoria’s murmur startles me.
I feel the stones shift. I try not to move as a squeak comes out. “Uh, yeah?”
She gets right to it. “How do you feel about Max?”
“Feel?” She’s painted a large target on my forehead.
“I know you care for him, but do you love him? Is this for the long term, or just a fling?”
“Fling?” We’ve been together for months. And she worries it’s a fling? “Not a fling,” I mumble. “I don’t do flings. Not a fling person.” Now I’m rambling.
