Page 45 of ReTreat Yourself

‘What about everything Nidi just asked us to do while she’s away? Did you understand any of that?’

Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen looks down at her nails. One of them is chipped. I can see her brain wandering as she inspects the nail from different angles. With a sigh, I’m tempted to ask her to google ‘How not to be a shit assistant’, but I don’t. Instead I ask her to google ‘Reasons to hire a life coach’ and tell her to start fucking reading.

‘Maybe you should write it all down,’ I suggest. ‘On your many Post-it notes.’

She looks at me as though I have delivered a major insult.

‘You have client very soon.’

‘No. I do not have a client very soon.’

‘Yes,’ she says.

‘Cancel it.’

She heard Nidi tell me not to life coach her clients but to reschedule.

‘Too late. He has left in car already. I tell him where to park. It takes him thirty minutes, he says.’ Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen looks at me as though she’s expecting a medal. ‘You are the boss now, apparently.’

I have no words.

Thoughts fly through my brain, scrambling for attention. My first huge problem is that an actual, bona fide client is on his way to be life coached by Nidi, and it is too late to cancel.

My second huge problem is that my sister is coming tomorrow to make a fool of me, steal my job and ruin my life for the second time in as many weeks.

My third huge problem is that my walking-dead, chain-smoking assistant has far too long a name and far too terrible a work ethic to help me build my career into one that can provide a living for both of us.

In addition, Oliver is potentially spying on me, which leads me to question what that heavy petting was all about and whether he was genuinely into me. I’ll have to push that to one side for the moment.

I feel the panic rising.

Deep breaths… one, two, three… in through the nostrils, out through the mouth… two, three.

‘Who is it?’

‘Jiff.’

‘Fine,’ I say, keeping the terror from my voice. ‘Send him in when he arrives.’

It is Geoff Levison. I remember him from last week. I observed him with Nidi a few times. He is a nice man, originally from Mongolia. He taught himself to speak English online. Very clever. As a result, he sounds like he is from seventeen different countries.

I dash back into my office to get ready for battle— I mean work. I glance at my wine cooler cabinet. Full of immediate answers. And possibly also home to problem number four. I suspect that I might be a bit of an alcoholic now. But one thing at a time.

I’ll just quickly check up on Ryan Reynolds first to see if he’s thinking about getting divorced again or at least having a few marital complications. As I’m typing in ‘Ryan’ and ‘marriage problems’ to the search engine, I come across a quote that Nidi shared on our company socials last week for clients who were having a tough time coping with relationships and full-on careers. It says that filling their days to the point that they are physically and emotionally drained will mean that they end up with nothing by the end, but if they fill their days with nothing, they’ll have something by the end. I literally have no idea what that is supposed to mean. An ugly thought occurs. Is that what I spent the whole of my twenties doing? Filling my days with so much work I was left empty by the end?

Oh Christ. Fifteen minutes just disappeared. Where? How? Bloody scrolling.

I just have time to remind my terrible assistant to answer any calls, especially client bookings or changes of appointments, and to under no circumstances let the awful man from the International Coach Federation book an appointment. In fact, I’ll tell her to say I have left the country and do not intend to return. Even just the thought of Oliver brings back a wave of humiliation. I have a good mind to report him for unprofessional behaviour, never mind him reporting me. I mean, surely I am not the first woman to be caught rolling around pretending to be on fire? It’s in the Life Coaching Handbook. I’ll make sure to remember to put that in my complaint. It’s on pages thirty-five and thirty-six, clear as day.

Now, I must find something for Geoff. I quickly google something useful for us to use as a task. Within minutes, I’ve managed to find out what Ryan Reynolds really thinks about second marriages and fatherhood. I’m pleased to hear he finds it a struggle at times.

Gaaah! Another fifteen minutes have disappeared just like that! I fly into reception, ready to bark at Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen. There is no way that I can go through with this. No way. How can I possibly justify Geoff paying me fifty euros for the hour? How would he be getting good value for money? I won’t be able to take it if I feel like I’ve cheated him.

The sound of the door opening downstairs stops me in my tracks.

‘He is here!’ Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen yells at me. She’s given up on the phone system entirely. ‘He is on time as usual.’

God help him.