Cleo was shaking her head but a smile was creeping across her features. ‘That’s hilarious.’
‘It’s not,’ said Regan.
‘So what happened exactly?’
Regan was getting grumpy. ‘I’ve told you what happened.’
‘Yes, but did she get a caution or a fine?’ Cleo was grinning broadly. At least she looked happier than she had when Regan had answered the call.
‘I don’t know the details, but Dad was devastated so I came straight round.’
‘Is he there now?’
‘Er. No … he’s popped out for … some milk.’ She was talking like she was doing a hostage video under duress. ‘Anyway, how are you?’
‘Not great. I’ve been panned by a critic and Oscar is having a meltdown about it.’
‘I know, I read your email. I’m sorry.’ Regan could tell this was more serious than she’d realised. ‘What can you do?’
Cleo pursed her delicate pink lips. ‘Nothing. I can’t magic a new collection. We’ve got to ride it out and hope the buyers aren’t too heavily influenced by the piece.’
‘I’m sorry, Cleo. That’s rubbish. If there’s anything I can do, you just have to say.’
‘Thanks. I might need you to pop round to the studio.’
‘Er, okay. Any time. Just let me know. Sorry, but I’d better go. Keep me posted on everything. And I’m here if you need me. And I can be at the studio any time.’
‘Thanks, that makes me feel better.’
Regan ended the call and put down her aching arm. That was a close call.
Regan had a rubbish week. Charlie was working – or at least she really hoped he was, because he said he was on six-until-nine night shifts so she couldn’t see him, but they’d had some great text exchanges, which had reassured her that she hadn’t imagined the spark between them. Being on her own was making her more than a little paranoid. She’d had two job rejections without even an interview, and both were jobs she had loads of experience for. There’d been no approaches from the jobs websites she’d signed up to, apart from an office cleaning job which, despite not being the most exciting, she had decided she would apply for; until she’d found out it was at BHB Healthcare and her pride wouldn’t let her.
She’d been round to her dad’s twice. Both times, Tara had turned up almost as soon as Regan had sat down with a cuppa. The second time, she’d come in carrying a massive dress carrier and taken it through to the bedroom; Regan had spotted a shifty look on her face as she did so. Knowing her dad was instantly on edge when Regan and Tara were forced to share the same air, she’d downed her drink and left. All in all, her plans to get herself off rock bottom were not going well.
Saturday trundled around again and she found herselflooking forward to Mantra. It made her feel that she was a bit of a lost cause if that was the highlight of her week. She’d thought about the people on the course off and on all week, especially the ones who had suffered with illnesses. They had been helpful for her mental pep talks and to get some perspective. She was fit and healthy, apart from all the ready noodles and ice cream she’d consumed, and her health was a lot to be thankful for.
Charlie had assured her he’d be there on time and had suggested they go for a walk along the beach afterwards, which sounded like a couply thing to do and a stride in the right direction. She’d done an early session at the gym so she was clean and preened and, in her enthusiasm to see Charlie, she got to the community centre early and joined a couple of others in the kitchen. Embarrassingly, she couldn’t remember their names, but they happily reminded her that they were Wendy and Joel. Regan’s brain immediately filled in the details of their medical conditions – Wendy had had a stroke and Joel suffered with depression. Wendy was wearing another wonderfully bright kaftan and they struck up a conversation about it.
She hadn’t realised she’d been keeping an eye on the doors but as soon as there was a figure on the other side, Regan recognised it was Charlie and felt herself light up. Charlie gave a broad smile when he saw her and she had to stop herself from doing a slow motion run into his arms. There was something very special about Charlie. Nobody, and certainly not any previous boyfriends, had made her feel like this. Maybe it was the situation she found herself in? Maybe that was magnifying anything that was vaguely pleasurable against the rest of the giant whiffy pile of poo that was currently her life. Or maybe they were perfect for each other.
She made her excuses to Wendy and greeted Charlie. They grinned at each other like idiots for a few moments before Charlie went to make himself a coffee.
‘Sunday night was fun,’ he said, dunking his Hobnob.
‘Yeah, we should do it again.’
‘Great,’ said Charlie. He went to say something else but Cressy interrupted by chiming her bell and calling the session to order. Everyone picked a chair and Charlie and Regan sat next to each other. Charlie reached his fingers down and gave her hand a squeeze. When he let her fingers go she felt bereft. She was falling for Charlie. A spiral of panic uncoiled in her gut – she hoped he was feeling the same.
This was moving very fast. They’d only met a few times, but Regan had an innate feeling that the two of them were meant to be together. She wasn’t the slushy sort and certainly hadn’t felt like this with Jarvis. It was exciting and scary at the same time. Her mind drifted off and she fantasised about holding his hand as they walked along the beach. Regan took a steadying breath and tuned in to Cressy.
‘Can everyone please hold out their hand, palm up.’ Cressy had a bowl and a teaspoon and she went around and placed a sultana in everyone’s palm. Regan was grinning wildly.
‘Blimey, that’s portion control for you,’ said Regan, eyeing her sultana.
‘It’s mindful eating,’ whispered Charlie.
Cressy took them through a step-by-step process where they studied the surface of their sultana, sniffed it, squeezed it gently and held it up to the light. At this point Regan struggled not to laugh. They all looked like they were presenting a miniature offering to the gods. EventuallyCressy told them they could place it on their tongue, but they weren’t to eat it. They had to think about the texture and what they could taste before biting into it. When they were allowed to eat it, very slowly, Regan was amazed by how good it tasted. Her senses were on high alert and the sultana tasted better for it.
