‘What would you like to gain from the retreat?’ Rose asks.
India quails at this question even though it’s not directed at her. She’s next in line.
Wondering why she can’t find the perfect man is not going to be an acceptable reason for why she’s there. Talking about wanting a baby would be, but India can’t go there. Not with anyone. She hasn’t told her father, Georgie, anyone—
Keera’s hesitating.
‘I did rehab a few months ago and I need to sort some stuff out in my head,’ she says. ‘I thought a group would be good. I like the group therapy concept.’
‘Thank you,’ says Rose, smiling.
It’s India’s turn. She suddenly realises that there’s something familiar about Keera but she can’t figure out what it is.
‘I’m … er, India, and I wanted something relaxing with yoga and …’
She half-waits for the laugh. She always makes people laugh. But nobody laughs here. Shit.
‘… I thought juices, massage, maybe. To de-stress. I’m not unhappy … well, I broke up with my boyfriend a while ago.’
Rose is nodding and India thinks that maybe she’s doing OK.
‘I loved your show when I was younger, Rose,’ she adds lamely.
‘Me too,’ chimes in Keera, and she and India look at each other properly.
‘It’s you,’ says India, suddenly realising.
Keera nods and smiles.
OK, thinks India, feeling braver.If someone cool like Keera’s here, then it’s got to be good.
‘There’s a lot of stuff I’d like to sort out but I don’t know if this is the right place for it,’ India finishes in a rush.
Is this mad? Or very, very wise?
Rose smiles at her, a very warm, understanding smile. India smiles back and forbids herself to nibble a cuticle.
They move on.
‘I’m Dan,’ says the tall man stiffly. ‘I’m not sure why I’m here,’ he adds.
India and Keera exchange glances.
Trouble ahead, India thinks.
‘I’m Dianne,’ says the older woman with the frosted curly hair, speaking out of turn. ‘I’m only here because my kids made me.’ She flashes Rose a sardonic smile.
Again, Keera and India share a glance but Rose just smiles beatifically at Dianne.
‘Thank you, Dianne.’
‘I am Bernard Hennessy,’ says the oldest person there, announcing his name as if they should all know who he is. ‘SirBernard, actually,’ he adds with a very fake laugh. ‘I’m here for my lovely wife, Grazia,’ he adds.
India thinks that Rose has just clenched her teeth but she can’t be sure. If she was his wife, she’d tell him this sort of behaviour was not cool.
‘I am Grazia and we are here for each other,’ says his wife in her heavily accented English.
Whatever could be their issue, wonders India.
