Page 19 of The Happiness Project

‘The one I use for my face. The pale-blue one with a little duck embroidered in the corner.’

‘Oh.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ My emotions move from annoyance to fear.

‘I put it in the laundry basket after I’d used it,’ she says.

‘What did you use it for?’ I ask.

‘What do you think I used it for? Washing myself, obviously.’

‘Washing your whole body with my face cloth?’ I’m horrified.

‘What’s the problem?’ Patty says with a cheeky grin. ‘I went back to front.’

‘AARRRGGGHHHH,’ I scream, trying to get that image out of my head. ‘It’s a face cloth. The one I used to soak in warm water then place across my forehead and eyes to smooth out the wrinkles while enjoying a deep relaxing bath. I’ll never be able to do that again! Every face cloth will remind me of you and your fandango!’

Patty finds my horror highly amusing and I can see she’s bursting to laugh out loud.

‘And besides,’ I add, ‘it’s front to back!’

That does it — she roars with laughter and gets up and starts swiping an imaginary towel between her legs.

‘Back to front, front to back,’ she says while miming the actions. ‘I guess I shouldn’t tell you the rest.’

‘Could it get worse?’ I know that it’s just about to.

‘I did my legs too and had to wipe the hair removal cream off. Giving it a wipe rather than just washing it off gets all the stray hairs that hang on for dear life.’

I stand with my mouth agape. ‘Wiping depilatory cream off your legs with my face cloth?’ I repeat, to which she nods.

‘It was the first thing to hand.’

Then a thought strikes me.

‘Please tell me it was only your legs,’ I beg. Patty simply shrugs and I retch.

I pick up a cushion and throw it at her then head back up for a shower. I certainly can’t face the bath, not now.

* * *

Next morning I’m up early with a fire in my belly. I haven’t had much sleep as I lay thinking about Michael and why he might have stood me up without so much as a text message. I haven’t told Patty about it. I pretended that our date went well enough but I wasn’t sure it would go anywhere. I cannot face telling her that once again my love life is a disaster, especially when hers is flourishing. The plan I decided on in the middle of the night was to give Michael twenty-four hours to tell me why he didn’t turn up and after that, I just forget about him. I know that I could call him and ask — that’s what Patty would suggest — but he knew the time and place and he definitely has my number now, so I really cannot think of a reasonable explanation for the no-show.

Fake it ’til you make it. I sigh as I fill the kettle. I’m wearing a full face of make-up and am dressed to kill. I might feel sad but I’m not going to show it. I make myself a coffee and put some bread in the toaster thinking about that feeling. I don’t know Michael well so it’s not really about him as a person, although I did think that we got on well at the New Year party and I liked him. And maybe it isn’t sadness that’s sitting like a heavy lump right in the middle of my rib cage; I feel as if I’ve failed. And I seem to keep failing — at this aspect of my life anyway. Husband, Ed and now Michael, all completely different people with different reasons for not working out but still the same end result — I’m standing here on my own. The toaster pops rather loudly in the silence of the kitchen so it jolts me out of my contemplation. I sit down with my breakfast and inhale deeply; the warm bready smell is very comforting and with the creamy butter half melted in, it’s like a little hug. No wonder people turn to food in times of crisis — it rarely lets you down. When I’ve finished I get ready to leave and before I open the door, I inhale deeply and mentally recite an affirmation three times: You are strong, you are wonderful and today will be great.

* * *

Throughout the journey to work, I think back to the life coaching session I had with Caroline last year. It helped me to see what I really wanted in life after the divorce and kind of gave me permission to go after it. Back then, my priority was the business and getting a love life was something I knew I would want in the future but was in no hurry. Perhaps a year is too short a timeframe for both me and Michael? Just because my ex-husband, best friend and daughter have all found someone doesn’t mean to say that I need to do the same. Patty was single for several years after her husband died so perhaps I’m trying too hard. It’s just that I seem to be watching all my close friends and family setting sail with new partners while I’m left alone on my little desert island. Would that be so bad?

‘Wow, someone means business today,’ says Charlie as I walk through the door of the shop and shake the image of me talking to a coconut out of my head (even Tom Hanks had Wilson).

I give him a twirl and tell him that we are going to knock the sales targets out of the park today.

‘Go, Angie,’ he replies as we both sit at our desks and fire up the computers. ‘So how did the date go?’

He had to make small talk, didn’t he?

‘Jury’s still out,’ I say without looking up from my screen. Again, I’m not lying just not telling the whole story. Charlie takes the hint and changes the subject.

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