My Kind of Happy - Cathy Bramley Page 0,2

But I reckoned it had to be worth a try, I’d been stuck in a rut for months now and couldn’t see a way out of it. Perhaps getting my chakras shaken up would do the trick.

Laura opened her mouth, a protest forming on her lips. I grinned at her and her face softened.

‘You’re right, let’s do it. And then we do need to talk about something.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Something important.’

I smiled indulgently at my dearest friend, watching while she folded her own belongings neatly into the locker below mine. It would probably be another self-help book, or website or support group. Laura was on a one-woman mission to mentor me through my loss and while I knew it wouldn’t help me, I loved the fact that she kept on trying, because it meant that she still cared.

‘Sure.’ I locked my locker and linked her arm through mine. ‘Straight after this. Promise.’

The dance studio we’d been directed to appeared to be empty at first except for four chairs which had been arranged in a circle, a folded blanket placed squarely on each seat. But as Laura and I entered, we saw a woman with a head of tight white curls crouched over a CD player on the floor. She pressed a button and the sounds of wind chimes and waves softly lapping the shore filled the room.

Laura cleared her throat and the woman turned, her face lit up with a welcoming smile.

‘Hello, come in, come in, take a seat!’ She stood and waved us to the chairs. She was wearing what looked like a long tapestry rug and her fur-lined boots squeaked on the rubbery floor as she crossed it to close the door behind us and dim the lights.

‘I think it might just be us,’ I whispered, tucking the blanket over my knees. ‘This is going to be so awkward.’

Laura eyed the door shiftily. ‘We could do a runner?’

‘We can’t do that to her,’ I said with a horrified giggle.

‘I can,’ she muttered.

Just then the woman joined us in our circle of two. She smelled of cloves and eucalyptus; it was exotic and mysterious and exactly how I imagined a crystal healer should smell. She sat down, placed a velvet bag on the floor by her feet and regarded us both intently.

‘I’m Maureen Sinclair,’ she said in a voice as smooth as warm honey, ‘welcome to this crystal healing session. You are good friends, I think?’

We nodded.

‘Then this will be a wonderfully intimate session for you both.’ Her fingers were adorned with silver rings and her thumb was stroking them rhythmically.

‘Great!’ Laura announced with a note of hysteria in her voice. She’d pulled her blanket up to her chin and looked about eight years old.

‘Yes, lucky us!’ I pinched my lips together, trying not to laugh.

Maureen lifted her velvet bag onto her knee and looked at me as if she could read my soul, as if my innermost thoughts were etched on my heart in bold for her perusal. I felt a flush of heat to my cheeks. It already felt intimate and she hadn’t even produced a crystal yet.

‘Introduce yourselves and tell me what you are hoping to get from this session,’ she asked softly.

Laura gave me a look as if to say good question.

‘Well, I’m Fearne,’ I said confidently, trying to remember what was on the write-up about this class, ‘I definitely think my chakras needed balancing.’

Laura let out a snort and quickly turned it into a cough.

Maureen leaned towards her and gave her an intense look. ‘We can certainly do that. Any particular issues you’d like to address?’

‘I’m Laura and I need my brain to calm down after a busy month and I haven’t been sleeping well,’ Laura said meekly.

Maureen listened so carefully, it was almost as if she was straining to hear another voice, inaudible to the two of us. She nodded slowly before turning her attention back to me.

‘And you, Fearne?’ she said softly, ‘I’m sensing a sadness behind that smile.’

I shrank back in my chair, feeling an instant prickle of perspiration under my arms; I wasn’t comfortable being under this kind of scrutiny. I didn’t want her to be able to read me like this.

‘I’ve had a lot to deal with recently,’ I said in a small voice.

Maureen held my gaze for a second longer than I’d have liked and delved into the bag. Getting to her feet, she placed a large pink stone on the floor in the centre of