My Kind of Happy - Cathy Bramley

Chapter One

‘I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ I said with a contented sigh.

Laura looked at me uncertainly and whistled under her breath. ‘Talk about glam. Hope they let us in.’

We were gazing around the foyer of the Enchanted Spa, Derbyshire’s newest luxury health resort.

There was something special in the air, as if the staff knew just what a fabulous day you had in store and could hardly contain their joy at sharing their workplace with their clientele. Young, old, fat, thin; gym bunnies or couch potatoes, everyone received the same warm and celebratory welcome at the front desk. I could feel my body slowly unfurling at the prospect: a spa day with my best friend. What a perfect way to spend a grey Saturday in March.

‘Oi, speak for yourself.’ I tossed back my blonde hair. ‘I can do glam.’

Although having said that, I had noticed a rather unattractive dark parting this morning. Time to book into the hairdressers for some overdue highlights. I hadn’t been for ages. In fact, I’d hardly been anywhere for ages.

Perhaps today would mark a fresh start? A chance to get my life back on track and moving forward again …

Laura snorted. ‘Tell that to your joggers, I hope that’s only mud up the back of your leg.’

‘Whoops.’ I peered down at the mark; almost definitely mud. It had still been dark and damp when I’d taken Scamp for a walk this morning, I could have splashed through anything. I wiped the front of my trainer against the back of my leg and prayed I wasn’t making things worse.

Although I was only half an hour from home, it felt like I was a million miles away from reality. Crystal chandeliers glittered above us, the polished marble floor sparkled and harp music played softly in the background.

I caught the perfume from two enormous flower arrangements and exhaled with pleasure; my shoulders dropped from their usual place around my ears. ‘I feel relaxed already.’

‘Ditto.’ Laura squeezed my arm as we both gazed around us, taking it all in. ‘I’ve got loads to tell you later.’

‘Can’t wait!’ I answered contentedly. ‘And we’ve got all day, nothing to rush for.’

Just then the sliding glass doors behind us swished open and a huge group of women entered, all kitted out in sashes and tiaras, and we were pushed towards the reception desk on a tidal wave of over-excited hen party chatter.

Ten minutes later, we’d been handed fresh fruit smoothies, fluffy gowns and slippers and a lady called Bernice, one of the smiley young receptionists, was showing us to the changing rooms.

‘Is today a special occasion, ladies?’ Bernice glided ahead of us along a thickly carpeted corridor as if she was floating on her own cloud of happiness. Her lipstick matched her nail polish exactly, I noticed. I tucked my own ragged nails into my palms and tried to remember the last time I’d even worn make-up.

‘Not really,’ I answered, straightening my spine to copy her immaculate posture. ‘Just spending a day together. We haven’t seen each other for ages.’

‘Celebrating life then.’ Bernice turned and gave me a twinkly smile. ‘Can’t fault you.’

‘Er … I guess so,’ I said vaguely.

Today was about escaping my normal life. And here, where no one knew me except Laura, I was hoping to forget my sorrows for a few hours. Or did that make me sound uncaring? Because I cared very much. Always would. Oh God, now I could feel tears pooling in my eyes. Fresh start, Fearne, remember?

Bernice gave me a quizzical look and I felt Laura’s reassuring hand on my arm.

‘I’m an accountant,’ she said, forcing Bernice to divert her stare from my less than celebratory face. ‘So the start of the year is always hectic for me, doing people’s last-minute tax returns. I’m exhausted.’

Poor thing, I thought, snapping myself out of my reverie to note the dark shadows under her eyes. We’d been friends since we were sixteen, so I was used to her ridiculously long hours in January. Mind you, this year must have been exceptionally busy because I’d scarcely seen her in February either. And seeing as I’d become a bit of a recluse over the last seven months, so far this year had been pretty quiet. If it wasn’t for her and my brother’s best friend Hamish checking up on me regularly then the majority of my conversations outside of work would be with the dog, Scamp. And he wasn’t even mine, I was looking after him for my