I walk to the door to see him off. He stops by Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen’s desk to make another appointment.
‘Nidi won’t be back for three weeks,’ I explain.
‘Why can’t ah see you for laff coaching?’ he says, his face falling. ‘Ah rilly think we are gitting somewhere. I really enjoyed this sishun.’
I gulp, the compliment almost too much. I nod to Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen to take the booking.
I am a life coach. I am a bone fide life coach with an actual client who wants to pay for my services.I feel like I’ve just done a line of cocaine as an instant hit of happiness pings round my brain.
‘See you at the singles event Senor Jiff,’ she waves after him as he leaves. I roll my eyes unable to keep from grinning.
‘Not you as well? Honestly, it’s Geoff,’ I say slowly to Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen who looks confused.
‘J- E- F’ I pronounce phonetically.
She seems confused as she looks at me, then down at the appointment book, then back up at me. I watch her turn the book round so that I can see his name and signature. It says Jiffrey Livison. I peer at the signature and the printed name next to it. It does indeed say very clearly, for absolutely any idiot to see, Jiffrey Livison. JIFFREY effing LIVISON. Clear as day. Crystal clear. Un-fucking-mistakably clear.
I have been calling him Geoff, and he has been correctingme, not the other way around.
I tap my third eye rapidly and focus on my breath as the joy is sapped from my body.
You are on a journey. The beginning of a delightful learning curve. One of many. Breathe through it.
I can see that Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen is dying to smirk. I am not ready for that, so I swivel around to turn my back on her.
‘It’s okay,’ I say, suddenly remembering a much bigger emergency. ‘You can go home early.’
My sister is arriving tomorrow morning and I need to stop her boarding that plane.
Chapter 19
Iamseverelyregrettingmy decision to knock back a whole bottle of vino in under an hour last night. Snippets of me ringing my father late at night to try and get him to talk Ava out of coming – pointless, utterly pointless – are coming back to haunt me, along with the unwise decision to open a second bottle after the exchange didn’t go quite as planned. I replay the conversation in my head while I nurse a coffee.
‘But Dad, you HAVE to stop her coming over.’
‘Nell, my darling, she’s already announced it on Instagram to all of her followers.’
‘She can’t come! There’s nothing for her to do. She can’t just turn up expecting to become a life coach overnight.’
Like I did.
‘She’s too unlikeable and… self-absorbed. Literally the opposite of what you need to be.’
‘She’s arriving in the morning, and she’s staying for as long as she wants, darling.’
‘FINE! She can stay two days.’
‘As long as she wants, Nell.’
‘OKAY! Three days max. Two would be better.’
‘As long as she wants. It’s her home too.’
‘We’ll just have to see, Dad. She may want to leave straightaway. Don’t put pressure on her to stay. Two days is quite enough time for her to pull herself together and realise she belongs back athomewith you and Mum. Tell her to only pack for two days.’
‘Nell, are you a bit drunk because it sounds like you aren’t listening to a word I’m saying?’
The rest of the conversation consisted of my Dad repeating himself until he was too weary to continue, and when he sounded like he was getting a bit annoyed with me, I accidentally roared, ‘SHE CAN ONLY STAY FOR TWO EFFING DAYS, ALL RIGHT?’
