Amanda Brooke - Where I Found You

‘Afternoon, ladies,’ the man said. ‘Could you sign here for me please?’

A package had been placed on the counter and Kathy signed for the delivery. In a moment, the courier had disappeared but he had been enough of an interruption to remind the two women that they had work to do.

‘I suppose I’d better start setting up for my afternoon appointments. I’ve got two new clients today and the first is due any minute now,’ Maggie said. She had flipped up the cover on her tactile wristwatch and was horrified to discover how short of time she was. It wasn’t only meandering through the park that had made her late; she had lingered too long at home too. She and James had spent the weekend clearing out the spare room and that morning had been her first opportunity to get a feel for the place so she could start planning the theme for the nursery. Preparing for the future was still frightening, but she could either sink or swim and thanks to her recurring nightmare she had already chosen which.

‘Make sure you dry off first and I’ll let you know when Mrs Smith arrives.’

There was an inflection in Kathy’s tone and Maggie latched onto it. ‘Did you take the booking? Do you know anything about Mrs Smith? Is she pregnant by any chance?’

‘What is it about this Elsa woman that has you so obsessed?’

‘I’m not obsessed, I’m just concerned.’

Before Kathy could interrogate her further, the door jangled again. Harvey stood up and began to wag his tail furiously but it was the aroma of chamomile and cloves that gave away the identity of the salon’s latest arrival.

‘I didn’t expect to see you here on your day off. Is it a social call or have you chipped a fingernail?’ asked Maggie.

‘Neither,’ Jenny replied.

Maggie waited for her to explain further but Jenny was being reticent for a change. ‘Don’t tell me Mark’s getting his hair done,’ Maggie asked as she turned her attention to the person she heard soothing a grumbling Lily.

‘There’s no way I’m handing over my gorgeous husband to one of these vixens. No offence, Kathy.’

‘None taken,’ Kathy replied. ‘In fact, I think my girls would take it as a compliment.’

Mark cleared his throat to get their attention. ‘Actually, I’m on babysitting duties this afternoon.’

The growled response from Jenny was no doubt as he intended. ‘It’s not called babysitting when it’s your own daughter.’

‘You should be grateful he’s willing to help you out at all,’ interjected Kathy.

‘This joke is wearing very thin,’ Jenny warned.

‘Who was joking?’

‘Will you two stop teasing her,’ Maggie said before Jenny started hyperventilating. ‘Now is someone going to tell me what’s going on? If you’re here to see me then I’m afraid I can’t hang around. I need to get ready for Mrs Smith …’ Her voice trailed off as she finally recognised the deceit. ‘ You’re Mrs Smith?’

‘I’m being treated to a day of pampering by my darling husband and that includes a relaxing massage.’

Maggie folded her arms and gave them a stern look. ‘So why go to the trouble of booking an appointment under a false name – and a pretty unimaginative one at that.’

‘I picked that,’ Kathy added curtly.

‘Did you know?’ Maggie asked, redirecting her glare at Kathy.

‘Jenny wanted you to treat her like any other client – or should I say, charge her like any other client. If it was left to you to manage your own business affairs, you’d have gone bankrupt in the first month.’

‘I’m not so busy or desperate that I can’t help out a friend now and again.’

‘Except half of your clients would end up being treated like friends if you had your way,’ Kathy insisted.

Maggie raised a hand in submission. In her own mind, she offered a therapeutic service to people in need which often made it difficult to see them simply as clients and it was undoubtedly Kathy’s business acumen that kept Maggie’s accounts in the black. What had started out as a simple agreement to provide space and reception services for Maggie’s business had quickly developed into Kathy becoming a not-so-silent partner. ‘I don’t suppose there’s any point in arguing?’

‘None,’ Jenny and Kathy said in unison. ‘Besides, it’s Mark’s treat.’

‘And it’s my pleasure. I don’t know how she manages to take care of us all but even with her boundless energy, she needs to recharge her batteries now and again.’

‘You work hard too,’ Jenny reminded him.

‘Ah, but I couldn’t do what you do. I’m only a man, not good at multitasking like you ladies.’

Maggie sensed Kathy preparing to stick her fingers down her throat so she jumped in to divert the conversation. ‘Mark, do you ever remember seeing any swans in Victoria Park?’ she asked. He was the only one of the group who had lived in Sedgefield all of his life.

‘No, I can’t say I have.’

Undeterred, Maggie tried another tack. ‘Ever heard of a shop in Sedgefield called Flo’s Fruit and Veg?’ She heard Kathy sigh; she had heard these questions before.

‘No.’

‘Not ever?’

‘Ah, has it got something to do with this ghost of yours?’ he asked.

Jenny nudged Mark so hard that he let out a short gasp. ‘You’re not allowed to use the “G” word.’

‘And that would be because I don’t think she is a ghost,’ interjected Maggie. ‘A restless soul, perhaps, but not a ghost.’

‘Really?’ Jenny asked. ‘So your next question isn’t going to be whether or not Mark has heard of anyone drowning in the lake?’

‘I’m only asking in case Elsa did do something silly. I’m worried about her and I wanted to know if the lake was deep enough, that’s all,’ Maggie said, hoping only she could hear the lie.

She couldn’t blame her friends’ gentle mockery. Away from the lake and the connection she had felt with Elsa, Maggie was finding it impossible to justify or explain why this relative stranger should occupy her mind so much or why she feared for her future.

‘It wouldn’t take much water if someone was determined enough to drown themselves,’ Mark offered helpfully.

‘Thanks, Mark,’ Maggie said. She had no desire to revisit the countless theories that had kept her mind turning and her stomach churning for the past few weeks, so she made a point of checking her watch again. ‘Now I’ll be late for my second appointment if we don’t get a move on.’

‘Then if you’ve finished with me, I’ll be on my way,’ Mark said and turned to leave.

Maggie may have begun to doubt her senses but in some respects, she was as sharp as ever. ‘Don’t you think you’re forgetting something, Mark?’ She had heard the footsteps that marked his retreat but not the telltale squeak of pram wheels.

‘Nice try,’ muttered Jenny.

‘And don’t forget to come back and pick your wife up,’ Maggie added. ‘Now, Mrs Smith, would you like to come this way?’

The treatment room had been designed to make the most of the limited space available. There was a massage table in the centre, a small table and chairs for consultations in one corner and shelving lined up along all the available wall space. Jenny was currently reclining in the treatment chair, which took up the last of the available space.

Maggie had begun with a head massage and there had been gratifying groans from her mystery client as she dug her fingers deep into her neck and scalp in wide, curving arcs. Together they had selected a relaxing mixture of bergamot, chamomile and neroli, taking account of Jenny’s preferences and needs.

The aromas had already worked their magic on Harvey who was snoring peacefully in his bed tucked away in a corner. Jenny was another challenge entirely: between groans her chatter had been incessant. She had been telling Maggie how the property market wasn’t picking up fast enough and that Mark’s boss was considering further redundancies. Rather than relaxing, Jenny was becoming more agitated, so when Maggie moved her to the table for a full body massage, she refused to start until her friend had taken a vow of silence. She called it tough love.