Page 78 of ReTreat Yourself

The event is only a few days away and I have suddenly realised that I know nothing about the transport arrangements.

‘Coach?’ asks Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen.

‘Yes,’ I say. ‘We need to know how many people it can hold and match that with how many people you have invited.’

It’s basic maths.

‘I naturally assumed Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen had booked it,’ says Ava quickly. ‘What with her being from the area.’

‘And I naturally assumed you would book it,’ says Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen, looking at me. ‘Because you are the boss.’

We all stop to take a minute.

I had naturally assumed one of them had booked it, seeing as it was their idea.

‘So, no one has booked the coach?’ I ask.

Silence.

‘And how many people do we have booked on?’

Ava and Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen look blankly at each other.

‘So how do we know how many people to feed?’

Silence.

‘So while I’ve been busy life coaching and pre-assessing all the new clients, what exactly have you two been doing these past two days?’

Bickering about Instagram posts and catching up on celebrity gossip from the Hola! magazine?

‘It is Ryan Reynolds’s fault. He has been very busy on social media,’ Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen explains, ‘meeting sick people in hospitals and giving poor children free holidays.’

Ava nods along. ‘And of course, his Welsh football team are doing very well at the moment.’

This might be on me. I have been similarly distracted. My every waking thought has been about Oliver and where he is, what he is doing, why he is ghosting me. I have allowed this to happen.

* * *

Back at the office, the phone on Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen’s desk is flashing. We have a telephone message.

Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen presses play and we listen to the officious-sounding voicemail.

‘Hello. This is Andrew calling from the International Coaching Federation in Alicante. I’d like to book a time to do an assessment with Nell Weston, please. I also would like to book four places for me and my colleagues to attend your networking event. Are there are any places left on the coach?’

Good question. At this point in time, the whole event exists largely in our imaginations.

There is a second voicemail. I hold my breath, hoping it is from Oliver.

It is the owner of this building with an angry message for Nidi. He bellows down the phone that he hasn’t received the rent. He is giving her a day to get it sorted and the money transferred into his bank, otherwise, he says, we are out by the end of the week.

OMG.

‘Leave it to me,’ I say to two shocked faces. ‘I will book the coach and deal with the landlord. Ava, you book the ICF places and respond accordingly, please. Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen, can you ring the retreat and reschedule my appointment?’

My phone pings with a message.

I just landed. Can I see you?