and I’m determined to never ever breathe a word of that fiasco to her ever. What is it about gross things lately? I might as well have a swimming pool installed and get the thing filled with vomit and poo. Then I could jump into it every morning just to ensure karma already knows I’ve had my daily dose of foul bodily fluid drenching.
After reassuring Lara that I’m only partially joking about banning her from my cookery tastings, she finally leaves. I’m ready to drag myself upstairs into a steaming hot bath, but the doorbell chimes.
“I said you’re not banned.” I shout upon opening the door again, thinking Lara is still standing outside.
“Banned from what?”
It’s not Lara. It’s Brenda.
“Oh nothing.” I sigh. “Come on in.”
“Actually, I need you to come out here and join me.”
I highly doubt she needs me to do anything. Nevertheless, I walk out the front door and far away from a relaxing warm bath. “Where are we going?” I ask my soon-to-be-mother-in-law as we hurry along the pavement.
“There’s a new treatment at my spa that I think you’ll really benefit from, Emily.”
When we arrive at the Meli Spa I’m taken into the treatment area. “I didn’t know they had private rooms.”
Brenda tells me to sit on the bed that resembles a hospital gurney. “Now you just lie there and the nurse will be in shortly.”
Nurse? Since when does a beauty treatment require the assistance of medical staff? I’m feeling slightly worried as I lie here looking up through the sky-light above.
“What’s keeping them?” Brenda leaves the room and I’m left to stew in my worried state of mind.
While she’s out I quickly text Callum:
WHAT’S THIS NEW TREATMENT YOUR MUM HAS GOING AT THE MELI SPA?
He doesn’t reply and when Brenda returns to the room I’m even more concerned to find that the nurse she went to retrieve is a redheaded man.
“What sort of beauty treatment is this, Brenda?” I ask her nervously.
“It’s a detox treatment, darling.”
“A what?” I jump quickly off the bed.
“Relax, it’s just an enema.”
I… I can’t even… my brain cannot process…
Why do I do these things to myself? Why did I leave the confines and safety of my house with Brenda the obvious lunatic? I could have been happily laid back in a nice warm bath by now, rather than fearing for the state of my inner bowels at this present moment in time.
“Brenda. I’m not having the shit sucked out of my arse. I can use the toilet just fine on my own thanks.”
The ginger bloke raises his eyebrows and stops fidgeting with his shit-sucking machine for a second.
“Your waste products are not sucked out, Emily. They are merely washed out pleasantly with local fresh water that rejuvenates the digestive tract.”
Well, well, well. Someone’s been paying attention in the how-to-sell-an-enema-to-hapless-fuckwits class. I for one am no such fuckwit who’s gullible enough to have the shit either sucked or washed out of them… out of me… whatever! It’s so not happening to my backside.
Knock, knock, knock. There’s a pounding on the door. “Emily, are you in there?”
“Callum!” I scream overly dramatically at the sound of my fiancé’s voice. “I am in here, please save me!”
“Oh for god’s sake, Emily.” Brenda scowls at me and opens the door.
“Mum, I specifically said you shouldn’t ask Emily about this procedure.” Callum walks into the room and the redhead nurse guy choses this moment to wisely —in my opinion— leave.
“I know you did, dear, but I just though Emily would benefit from—”
“Oh Mum.” Callum cuts his mother off mid-sentence, which is something I’ve never known him to do before. “Just please, not this time, okay?”
“But I’m only looking out for your health, sweetie.” Brenda looks as though she’s going to cry.
I feel really bad. I didn’t know Callum was going to show up here. I guess he’d been alerted to my whereabouts when I’d sent him that text. I’m also guessing Brenda had asked him first about this enema thing. And I’m thirdly assuming he didn’t go for the idea.
I’m glad that my fiancé is in agreement with me about the goings-on inside my own lower intestines, and I don’t see why Brenda is taking it to heart. She really must love keeping people in shape. It must mean a lot to her.
“Maybe it’s not such a bad idea, Cal—”
He cuts me off with an angry glare. “Look,” he says, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Let’s all just have lunch at the spa restaurant, okay.