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“Sorry. I, uh, was taking in the view.”
“So I see. Now, if you’d like to follow me, I’ll show you inside.”
He told me to wave the oval face of my wristband over the scanner to let myself in, and if I had any problems, reception could reset the wristband for me. If it was out of hours, I could dial 0 from my bedside phone, twenty-four hours a day, and someone would be available to help me.
The interior of the villa had taken on the same colour scheme as the outside, with crisp whites and rich brown wood. The main door opened into a lounge/dining area that also contained a desk, and the space had doors that opened onto the pool deck. At the back of this area was a tiny kitchenette with a fridge stocked with beverages, a small cupboard with snacks, and drink-making facilities. The room service menu and ordering instructions were stacked next to the coffee maker. A door led to a spacious bathroom with a walk-in shower, a tub, double sinks, and a separate toilet, while another door led to my bedroom with two huge beds and a small ensuite bathroom—minus the shower and bath—and a walk-in closet.
After receiving instructions for adjusting the air conditioning, I opened the doors wide and stepped out onto the wooden deck.
This place really was beautiful. And I needed my phone, like now, so I could document it.
Lawrence cleared his throat again, startling me out of my thoughts. “I’ll be back tomorrow at nine to pick you up for breakfast before your intake session. After tomorrow, you can make your own way to breakfast, or if you’d prefer to be chauffeured around, dial reception, and someone will come to collect you. Enjoy your stay.”
“Cheers. See you tomorrow.”
When I was alone, I headed back into my bedroom, spotting the white box with an envelope on top of the closest bedside table, with “Mr. Emery” written on the outside of the envelope in flowing cursive script.
I scanned the contents of the envelope. There was a letter welcoming me to the resort, with the rules and information that Katlyn at the front desk had briefly mentioned. A second sheet of paper had a weekly timetable of sessions and activities, with mandatory items marked in bold. It looked like I had one mandatory group therapy session each week, two private therapy sessions, and two joint therapy sessions—whatever those were. In addition to that, I had to do something called “Focus,” which seemed to be a name for the activities on offer. The supplementary sheet said that the timetable was subject to change after I’d been assessed by the therapists or at any time during my stay, and if either myself or one of my therapists felt that I needed additional sessions, then a revised timetable would be created for me.
The list of activities at the resort sounded interesting. A few options caught my eye straight away—kayaking, paddleboarding, and snorkelling. I’d need to somehow find out which activities Theo was interested in, so I could sign up for whichever one he wasn’t doing.
Tossing the papers onto the bedside table, I picked up the plain white box and lifted the lid. Inside was a shiny phone, complete with charging cable and earbuds. When I powered it on, I was greeted with a plain red background with the Glevum FC logo and five icons on the home screen. A phone, a text bubble, a camera, Spotify, and a folder with a padlock on it.
What the fuck? Where were all the other apps? I was guessing they were all hidden within the padlock folder. I tried clicking on it, and a message came up to tell me I needed to input a password. Fucking brilliant.
I opened the text app and found a message from Rory.
Rory:
I know what you’re thinking, Jordan. Be grateful you even have a phone. The resort strongly discourages their use and most residents have a block on theirs. This phone has been set up so you can listen to music and take pictures (I know you’re incapable of surviving without taking at least 10 selfies a day), and you can call me IN AN EMERGENCY ONLY. A real, actual emergency. You can text me if there’s something you really need, and text your roommate as much as you want, but all other calls and texts are barred, as is internet usage. Please try to remember we’re doing this for your own good. Play your part, get back to England, and help Glevum to get to Europe next season. YOU CAN DO IT
My fingers flew over the keys as I replied.
Me:
No internet? How the fuck am I supposed to maintain my social media presence?
Rory:
I see you found my gift. How’s the recovery centre?
Me:
It looks like paradise and I was feeling ok about it until you told me I HAVE NO FUCKING INTERNET
Rory:
Send me your password and I’ll update your accounts while you’re away. Glevum has plenty of photos we can use for content
Me:
Fine. I guess. But NO INTERNET?!! There are so many selfie opportunities here! Also WTF am I supposed to do for entertainment without it? My room doesn’t even have a TV and the curfew is 10pm
Rory:
Save your selfies for when you get home. As for entertainment, you’re not there to be entertained, but I connected the phone to your Spotify account and downloaded all your most listened to playlists, so you have music. You could also try talking to your roommate. He’s in the same boat as you
Me:
