Page 52 of The Silent Bride
‘Alice. Alice ... MissPorter.’
I gasp and try to open my eyes, A feeling of dread shrouds me, followed by heat and panic.
‘Are you okay? I think you drifted off there.’
I blink and grimace at the sour taste in my mouth, trying to work out what’s going on. It comes back to me in fragments.
The last thing I remember was the massage therapist leading me into one of the treatment rooms. Soft music and sounds of the ocean. The air was perfumed with something rich and expensive. I’ve bought candles and diffusers before, but never managed to recreate that perfect ‘spa’ scent. I remember lying on the bed with my head facing down through the hole. The therapist’s voice coming at me from a long way away, muffled as though she was talking to me through a wall. My eyes drooping and finally closing.
I remember thinking that it was such a wasted opportunity to fall asleep and not be present to enjoy the soft pummelling of my skin, the delicious scents and feelings of deep relaxation, but I just couldn’t help myself. I felt like I was falling off a cliff into nothingness. But as I fell, I looked up. And I saw that Seth was up there on the cliff ... watching me fall.
And now I’m awake.
I feel slightly embarrassed and ridiculous.
‘Sorry,’ I croak. ‘I think I fell asleep.’
‘You were pretty out of it,’ the therapist says. ‘Hopefully, you’ll still feel the benefit of the massage. I’ll leave you to wake up properly and get back into your robe. I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?’
‘Thanks.’
I hear the door open and feel the whisper of fresh air over my skin, followed by the dull thud of the door closing again.
My throat is parched, and I feel groggy and nauseous. I sit up, relieved to see my water bottle on the chair. I slip my robe back on, slide into my slippers and take a few long swigs. I’m desperate to get some fresh air into my lungs. To cool off and try to feel normal again.
Annoyingly, despite a cool shower, a walk outside, and lots of water, I still feel weirdly out of it for the rest of the afternoon. Perhaps I hadtoo much alcohol last night and that, combined with the detoxifying massage, has wiped me out. Whatever the reason, it’s frustrating and feels like such a waste. We all meet by the pool and relax on the loungers, but my head is throbbing and my throat still dry, despite drinking what feels like gallons of water. And I can’t shake a deep feeling of dread. One that’s strangely tied up with that terrible image of Seth standing up on the clifftop, a dark shape receding as I fell.
I hope and pray that my head will clear by the time the evening comes, but it’s still as woolly as it was earlier. I’m having to brush off all the concern from everyone as to whether I’m feeling okay. I’m trying to act my way through it. To be as present as I’m able to be. I nip back to my room and wash down a couple of paracetamol, but they have no effect whatsoever. It seems like I’m locked into this state of mind.
By 10 p.m. everyone except me is very drunk. Even Mum is tipsier than I’ve ever seen her before. After the meal, she kisses my forehead and says she’s going up to bed to leave us all to it. I wish I could go up too, but Elizabeth has organised this whole weekend for me so I need to try to power through. To pretend I’m enjoying myself. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed by everything. After all, this is my hen night. I’m getting married in a couple of months. Moving into Brook Cottage with Seth. That’s quite a big deal.
My school friends Janey, Madeline and Danica arrived some time earlier and I have a vague recollection of hugging them, trying to act happy and normal, instead of this strange heavy-headed sensation that’s stuck with me ever since my massage. I wonder if maybe I was allergic to one of the essential oils and it’s affected my mind.
‘Are you listening, Alice?’
I look across the table in the hotel bar to see a woman with shiny dark hair frowning across at me. I realise it’s Charlotte, but her hairis loose for once and she looks so different. Like an alternate-reality version of herself.
‘Sorry, Charlotte, what were you saying?’
I realise she looks upset, and I sigh internally. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with her drama right now. I glance around, but everyone else is at the bar.
‘I just wanted to ask you,’ she says, ‘why you asked Miriam to be a bridesmaid and not me. I mean, I know it’s your choice, but she’s only the office manager and you and I have known each other for longer. I was actually really hurt when she told me yesterday that you’d asked her. I thought you and I were friends.’ Her lower lip juts out and she blinks, trying to hold my gaze.
I’m actually so taken aback by her words that my head begins to clear, fizzing away at the edges like spray cleaner on a smeary windscreen.
‘Alice? Did you hear what I said?’ Charlotte tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and gives me an earnest look. Her eyes are wide with hurt, and she’s chewing her lower lip.
‘Um, yes.’ I half nod, half shake my head, and take a breath. ‘To be honest, Charlotte, I thought you hated me.’
She screws up her face. ‘What? Why would you think that?’
I scrutinise her expression and realise she’s serious. ‘Because ... I guess you come across that way at work. Like I annoy you. You make snide comments and talk about me to Paul.’ I wonder if I’ve gone too far, telling her all this. But maybe it’s better to get everything out into the open.
‘That’s just banter,’ she says, wrinkling her nose.
If that’s the case, then her version of banter between friends is very different to mine. ‘Oh,’ I reply.
‘You know, two friends having a laugh,’ she continues. ‘It’s work. It’s competitive, but that shouldn’t ruin our friendship.’
