‘Life coach.’ I correct. And she has been in charge of two hundred poor souls for literally thirteen days, but I’d rather not sound petty.
‘Well, whatever, darling. Just make sure you look after her. She’s in quite the state. They really stitched her up.’
I perk up at this bit of information. Whilst it is great news to hear Ava is getting a taste of her own medicine, I’m now severely regretting my many exaggerated social media posts of me living my best life. Maybe it is time to be more truthful. I’m only ever living my second or even, third best life.
‘But Mum,’ I plead, ‘the life coach business is a flooded market. Really, it is the WORST time to retrain and start a business. Literally EVERYONE is doing it these days. Life coaches are ten a penny.’
‘Yes, your sister said the same thing. Anyway, she only has to do it as a kind of hobby to keep her busy until something better comes along.’
I am bloody seething inside, but I manage to stay civil.
‘So, encourage her to do something else. Somewhere else,’ I add tightly, but it is no use. Once my mother has made up her mind, it is very difficult to change it. She is in a different league altogether when it comes to stubbornness and thinking she is right all the time.
‘Mother,’ I say calmly in my professional voice. ‘I can see why you would think that but, let’s unpick your reasoning and explore the alternatives.’
‘Don’t bother trying any of that nonsense on me. She’s booked on the early flight tomorrow morning.’
‘TOMORROW? TOMORROW? ABSOLUTELY NOT. NO WAY.’
No way on this Earth will I allow it. No way. She can’t come, and that’s that.
My mother tuts. ‘She arrives at ten-thirty into Alicante. Can you pick her up and use yourprofessional skills to make sure she pulls herself together?’
My mother can be brutal sometimes. She makes the wordprofessionalsound like a made-up word to describe what I do.
‘Surely, you can put her to work in your office. After all, you are the boss. And your father says that you both have to share the villa equally. It is her home as much as yours.’
‘MOTHER!’ I shout. I’m losing it now. ‘Have you forgotten that Ava and I haven’t spoken for almost two weeks? Not since, and I find it VERY difficult to believe that you and Dad have conveniently forgotten this little piece of information, SHE made ME redundant, remember? Or I wouldn’t be in this bloody mess in the first place!’
‘You’re in a mess, are you?’ she quickly latches on. ‘Just as well she’s coming then. You can help each other to sort yourlivesout. Honestly, we didn’t have any of this in my day. We just got on with things. No fussing or emotional psycho-analysing, like your generation.’
‘I’m not in a mess,’ I backtrack, ‘and if I were, she’s the last bloody person I’d….’
I don’t bother to finish because I can hear she’s already hung up. Like a dark shadow hanging over me, I’m left choking in a toxic cloud.
Feck.
I’ll have to pant extra hard to shift the toxins building up. I’m fighting a thunderous rage. First, Oliver flat-out rejects me, and now Ava is on her way to ruin things for me again. I check that my door is shut, and grab the Life Coach Handbook, leafing through until I reach emotional emergencies and scan the page.
With an angry slap, I shut the book. That’s it. I’ve found just what I need. It’s a bit extreme but needs must. I’m going to VISUALISE my anger as me on fire, and I need to put myself out. I check that my door is firmly shut one more time, before I fling myself to the ground in a foetal position.
I hate Ava for being so smug and superior and making me redundant and desperate. I know deep down this is a terrible way to feel about a family member, but I just can’t help it. I just can’t. Why couldn’t she wait until I become an international bestselling lifestyle guru to Ryan Reynolds?
I quietly howl into my fist. All of my insides are wound so taut I feel about to snap. My eyes are squeezed shut so tight I can feel a searing headache coming on. The pain is slowly building inside my raging head. I hug my knees harder to my chest so it doesn’t explode with anger before unfolding to turn over. My face is buried in the rough carpeting, scratching my cheek. I take a deep breath in and let out a thunderous low growl from deep within my very core.
I thump the carpet angrily. My face contorted against the rough pile. Yet somehow, the discomfort and pain are pleasing. The dizziness from rolling around is pleasantly numbing as I imagine the flames being put out. I relax into the movement, my body completely limp when suddenly, there’s a shuffle of feet from outside of the office, a quiet knock and the click of my door gently opening.
Fuck no!!!!
A loud ‘Ahem’ jolts me from rolling around on the floor. I leap immediately up straightening my clothes, my hair and my face.
I lock eyes with a man.
A huge man.
Myhuge man.
‘Jeez, and I thoughtIwas supposed to be the one with the problems!’ Oliver jokes to diffuse the situation while I yank down my skirt and untwist my top.
