The Best Things by Mel Giedroyc

Author:Mel Giedroyc
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Headline Publisher

14

Amerjit was really getting used to the idea, relishing it even, that it was very important to resolve his own issues before he could even entertain the thought of helping others. He reclined fulsomely in a heap of the plumpest pillows you could find this side of The Ritz. He was starting to sleep really well in The Chantry. The mattress was memory foam and the duvet just the right tog. Room temperature was also perfectly judged; the view from the window serene and unintrusive. Lush, rolling lawns with surrounding woodland in the foreground, and gentle Surrey fields in the distance. The room was uncluttered with possessions, apart from a book, Just the Way I Am, borrowed from the honesty shelf downstairs. Next on Amerjit’s reading list was a new publication that had got the chattering classes aflutter – Women Are Also from Mars – which looked very interesting.

He was relishing the simplicity of his new life. No phone, no stressful accoutrements such as an overfilled sponge bag; just a simple bar of soap, toothpaste and white toothbrush were provided. Best of all, he had no artery-furring job to go to every waking hour of the day. All he had to think about were his therapy sessions, getting lots of kip, and eating regular, nutritious meals. It cost £4,900 a week to be here, all inclusive. Amerjit did some quick mental calculations and worked out that he could probably stay here for the next eleven years. It was tempting.

There was a very light tapping sound; even the door knocking was Zen here. A nurse with a gentle Scandinavian face popped her head round. She was uncluttered too; no distracting jewellery or eye make-up; everything about her was calm and calibrated.

‘Morning, Mr Singh, nothing to worry about. Just to say that your mum and dad have promised to settle up for your stay at The Chantry, and they’ll also be here to collect you when your treatment finishes. What supportive parents!’

And she closed the door with a smile.

‘Nothing to worry about,’ Amerjit repeated these words back to himself. He could feel an imaginary shirt collar tightening around his neck. Nothing to worry about? Why were they going to pay his Chantry bill? Why were they coming to collect him? How much did they know? He sat up erect in the bed and did some breathing exercises Roland had shown them on Day One. He was determined to make the most of the next four days, the next ninety-six hours were his everything. Ninety-six hours? He felt his heart begin to pound . . . and release the shoulders . . . let the belly grow . . . and breathe . . .

Sally also woke up in an uncluttered room with only the skittering of mice under the floorboards for company, banished to the eaves of Randwyck Manor, where in bygone days servants would have been housed. It felt to her as if the temperature were below freezing, surely impossible in

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