‘I’ll be waiting.’ Oliver winks at me. ‘Without the packet of crisps this time.’
Oh my God. It’s me who is about to have a heart attack.
I race into my room and over to the bathroom to do my teeth and freshen up.
When I emerge, one glance around my bedroom stops me in my tracks. The newly-made bed, the neatly folded clothes, the spotless floor and the distinct lack of stolen baked goods tells me I’m in big trouble.
A quiet knock on my door, and Gandalf standing with a raised eyebrow and a bottle of wine in his hand, confirms it.
‘Would that be a reward for my heroic behaviour today, by any chance?’ I gulp.
He shakes his head sadly.
‘I need to ask you to come viz me. Bring your begs, pleez.’
Oh dear.
While the group are gathered at the fountain, I hurriedly say goodbye to Endless Cloud who is giving me a look of pity as I thrust the heavy metal key at him a day early.
‘You heff acted alone or you heff accomplice?’
‘Alone,’ I say. ‘Totally alone.’
No point in Oliver getting thrown out too. Apparently, that delicious wine we drank was from Gandalf’s special reserve. He was keeping it to mark the end of his year-long ‘abstemiousness of all nice things’. No wonder he looked so tearful. They have every right to ask me to leave.
‘You hef broken all of the rules.’
My mind flies to the theft, the excessive dry humping of one of their guests and the breaking and entering. I suppose I have.
‘Vizout rules, vere vould vee be?’ Endless Cload is asking me.
‘Columbia?’
He shakes his head.
I drag my case outside. I am mortified. Fancy being asked to leave under such disgraceful conditions. I’ve gone from hero to zero in under sixty seconds. The whole retreat must have heard about my rule-breaking by now. Plus, I’m not given a chance to say goodbye to Oliver who, for all I know, is still sprawled naked on his bed, waiting for me to administer some sexual favours.
I blink rapidly to expel the vivid images of him and try to concentrate on what Endless Cloud is saying.
‘Your path is golden. Your time is now. Rise to the challenge.’
I have no idea what he means so I apologise once again, only for him to waft a bunch of sage at me, smiling as though he knows what the future has in store for me.
The campervan pulls up. It’s the same awful driver who brought me here, so I arrive at my family villa in double quick time, shaken and disoriented.
Our white-washed, single-storey villa, is nestled in a walled garden of palm trees. Wrought iron gates lead to a gravel courtyard exposing a wide driveway which leads to a large oak wooden door.
A wave of sadness envelops me as I remember the last time I was here. I was with my family and having a lovely time. How far apart we have all grown since then.
I fish out the keys and let myself in. I’m hit by the musty smell that comes with the place not being used for a couple of summers. I hurry round and lift up all of the shutters and throw open the glass patio doors to the back garden and pool area. The place is instantly flooded with light, the smell of the sea in the near distance and earthy palm trees warming in the rising sun. I cross the living room to locate the router for the wifi, switch everything on and with a huge sigh of relief, I connect to the world wide web.
It takes only a few minutes to find a website providing online training for people wanting to become life coaches. There’s even one doing ‘quick qualifications’ including certificates and proof of ‘accreditation’ within a week. It’ll take what I have left on my credit card until my redundancy pay out comes through, and leave me with barely any money to eat, but at least I’ll have my self-respect. I sign up immediately.
I briefly wonder what Pippa is up to and whether she is still angry with me. I check my phone to see if she has messaged. Nothing. I check my DMs to see if Dan has been in touch. Nothing. He hasn’t posted anything since the gin cocktail lunch. I stare at the outline of his reflection and the woman next to him and feel the heavy weight of disappointment.
Letting out a long, slow breath, I text Dad to tell him that I have settled in and that I have already got myself a new job (probably) and not to worry. I tell him I just need some space to get myself sorted and some time to put all of this distress behind me, but that it is definitely all, I repeat, ALL, Ava’s fault. One hundred percent all her fault. I press send, sit back and promptly burst into tears.
Deep breaths.
