Page 17

When what seems like the four years we have spent pebble gazing finally comes to an end, we learn dinner is to be orthodox, earth-friendly and vegan. It is to be cooked as a group with whatever we can collect from the next activity, which is ‘Forest Bathing’.

‘Vee will experience Shinrin-yoku,’ Gandalf tells us. ‘Our tree friends are waiting for us, yah?’

I let out a disappointed sigh. ‘Christ, why can’t we eat here and go to bed? I’m shattered,’ I say to equally tired faces around me. Who knew that staring at a pebble would be so utterly draining?

Gandalf smiles at us and floats away.

Essentially, we are embarking on a moonlit hike into the forest and up a great bloody mountain to enjoy hugging thousand-year-old trees and the like, and to forage for nuts, fruits and wild mushrooms. This simply isn’t on. I’m starving hungry and clearly not a squirrel. I look around for Gandalf to voice my many complaints. He glides over as if anticipating my grievance and thrusts a sign into my hands just as we are about to set off.

Oh great. It’s my turn for silence.

I hear Oliver chatting animatedly with the other group members as we set off. He is asking them questions about themselves and they are keen to tell him their whole life stories. He really is a nosy bugger. He looks the picture of good health and immensely relaxed. His skin is glowing whereas I feel like a withered old crone, and my face feels like a scroll of ancient parchment in comparison.

* * *

A surprisingly short while later, we have feasted on a BBQ of dried, shrivelled forest floor remnants that even a starving hamster would turn its nose up at, and we’ve thanked the trees by way of dry humping them. My stomach is so empty that I feel light-headed and as I look around the group and the natural surroundings, it all feels otherworldly. Bizarrely, as we make our way back to the retreat, I realise, due to the sheer physical exhaustion of it, I haven’t thought about Dan or my sister or their betrayal once.

Gandalf takes the sign back from me with a knowing flick of his long locks. I have no words to say to him. I wouldn’t know where to begin anyway.

‘Shanti,’ he whispers.

Fuck off, I want to whisper back.

But I don’t. I’m too well-mannered and tired. I dig out the huge metal key from my pocket and return abruptly to my room. After a relaxing candle-lit bath, scented with calm-inducing aromatherapy oils, I wrap myself in Spain’s tiniest towel and wander out on to the balcony to gaze at the stars, glistening up in the night sky. I contemplate what I’m going to do with my life and whether a lottery win is my only credible option at this juncture, when a movement to my right causes me to jump. It’s Oliver, doing the same, stretching, almost naked thanks to his own tiny towel, on the next balcony along. At least he’s covering up this time. His lean torso does something funny to my pelvis, there’s a definite twanging sensation, and as he rakes a hand sensually through his hair and turns in slow motion towards me, we experience an awkward moment as he catches me peeking at him. Blatantly sexualising him if you will. I watch a smile spread over his face.

Shitting hell.

I scamper back inside and leap into bed. I hear him sliding his balcony door closed and let out a breath I didn’t realise I was holding.

Think about sleep.

Think about breathing.

Do not think about that thigh.

That solid thigh poking out from the gap in the towel.

Clear your mind, Nell. You can do this.

A feeling of calm and quiet that I haven’t felt for quite some time, possibly even years, washes over me. I breathe in the scent of the huge bunches of lavender arranged around the bed next to the crystals and drift off into a deep sleep.

7

The next day before sunrise, we are all woken for some Vinyasa Flow yoga by the familiar wailing and dinging of a gong. According to our notes, when we hear this, we must silently rise, don our robes and make our way along to the Serenity Fountain for some ‘Dawn Bathing’. We will become one with our bodies before we present ourselves to the day.

‘Deep breaths. Hold for three… four, five and… gently release into Lion’s breath,’ Endless Cloud is whispering to the already assembled group who appear to be standing on one leg, the other bent at the knee, arms above their heads. I slip into the group unnoticed under the cover of darkness. Or I would have done if it wasn’t for my terrible balance and complete lack of flexibility. As the group embark on a series of stretches, legs akimbo, leaning forward to grab the toes, Endless Cloud wafts over to lean on my back with a pointy elbow to get me closer to my feet. Unfortunately, it is starting to get light, and it feels like I’m being mounted by a ghost with cobwebby hair and saucepan eyes.

Next, a Cow Pose on all fours. This time I’m left to my own devices but I’m acutely aware that my bottom is within sniffing distance of Oliver who, the dawn light reveals, is immediately behind me.

Typical.

I can’t help feeling self-conscious and after a series of embarrassing positions, with me far too stiff to do them properly, I slide my eyes over to see Oliver very comfortably assuming the Half Moon. Endless Cloud is keen to administer praise and openly flirts with him. Whereas I am impatiently sighed at every two minutes for getting everything catastrophically wrong. Endless Cloud pairs me with Oliver to see if I can fare any better.

Mortifying.

He instructs Oliver to put his knees into my back, pulling at my arms to open up my chest. He warns the group against the evils of pent-up bitterness and points directly at me.

Thankfully the group are all trying to avoid looking at me to spare me any further embarrassment.