‘Wow, you almost made it on time!’ Hattie laughed.
‘Well, your guest has a reputation for turning up early, so we hoped she’d help you be not so rudely late for once,’ the woman who’d handed me the jacket replied.
Hattie hugged and kissed each of the women in turn. ‘Sophie, these are the Gals. Laurie, Deirdre, and the one with the attitude is Kalani.’
‘She means me,’ the woman with the jacket added, with a dismissive shrug. She looked to be somewhere in her mid-forties, but her chic shirt-dress and immaculate make-up could have fooled me into thinking she was younger. ‘Someone’s got to tell it how it is around here.’
‘So, you’re Laurie?’ I asked a woman with an auburn plait wearing leggings and a beige hoodie, assuming the fifty-something one who’d come in the giant scarf was Deirdre.
‘That’s me,’ the older woman said, offering her hand to shake, before realising that was impossible due to my hands being buried under a mountain of wet fabric. She had straggly, ash-blonde hair and a round face devoid of any cosmetics, a black knitted jumper with a horse on the front and skinny jeans.
‘I know, not many thirty-five-year-old Deirdres about,’ the younger one added, smiling. ‘My mum’s a big Corrie fan. Thankfully, my life is a lot less eventful than my namesake’s.’
‘You can say that again,’ Hattie said, slipping her arm through Deirdre’s and leading her towards the dining room. ‘But we’ll keep working on it.’
* * *
I ended up spending another meal surrounded by the unfamiliar buzz of vigorous conversation, spirited hand gestures and raucous laughter. At times, the discussions grew positively boisterous, the affectionate teasing and amusing stories growing wilder as the wine continued to flow.
‘Well, Hattie. Your reputation is in tatters,’ Laurie announced, banging her glass on the table once her host had passed out plates of dessert. ‘Lindsey told everyone in the bakery queue that you invited a stranger to her naked therapy session.’
‘I might have known she’d be the one to blab.’ Hattie sighed.
‘I don’t know if people are more bothered about a randomer walking in on them – no offence, Sophie – or hearing that you make people do therapy naked,’ Kalani said, topping up everyone’s glasses.
‘Ian Watkins was asking where he could sign up,’ Deirdre said, shuddering.
‘I don’t make people do anything!’ Hattie huffed, before taking a large swig of wine.
‘You might not wrestle them out of their clothes, but you can be very persuasive,’ Laurie said. ‘Michelle told me she’s thinking of pulling Kaylee out of the Shine course.’
‘No!’ Hattie cried. ‘Kaylee needs this more than anyone. And I’ve two more who said they’d only do it if Kaylee did. Once those three cancel, then the rest will topple like dominoes. These girls have spent far too long already waiting for some professional help. It’s that or back to CAMHS for another ten-month wait.’ Her face twisted up in frustration. ‘I can’t believe I was so stupid as to mix up the times. No offence, Sophie.’
‘You didn’t actually tell me a time, so it wasn’t completely your fault. I should have checked.’
‘What, checked that I might have naked therapy going on?’ Hattie shook her head. ‘No. This is completely my fault, and I’m furious at myself. I don’t care about whatever wild rumours people spread about me, but it took me years –years– to build people’s trust in what I do here, so that I could help them. And I do help – people who’d never dream of going to counselling or find the confidence to talk to a stranger about their problems on Zoom. Ugh!’
She dropped her head onto the table, narrowly missing her plate of cake crumbs.
‘Is there anything we can do to help?’ I asked.
Hattie lifted her head an inch, one eye gleaming.
‘No!’ Kalani said, straight away. ‘I can’t believe you’d use this as another ploy to manipulate us into letting you art us off.’
‘Art itout,’ Deirdre added, helpfully.
‘I don’t art anyone!’ Hattie said, pushing her hair back off her face as she sat up again. ‘Like I said, you’re the one doing it, and what you do and how you do it is completely up to you. That’s how creativity works.’
‘Well, if you think you can ply us with wine, lasagne and amazing cake – this is amazing, by the way, almost as good as Laurie’s – and then trick us into signing up for therapy we don’t even need, then you’re delusional.’
‘Everyone needs an opportunity to express themselves.’
‘I agree. I think I just expressed my opinion on your therapy perfectly!’
‘How about we call it an art class?’ Hattie went on, undeterred. ‘Lots of people would love to have an opportunity to be taught by a famous artist.’
‘Oh, so now you’re resorting to playing the famous card.’ Kalani snorted. ‘You must be desperate.’
