Truly, Madly, Like Me - Jo Watson Page 0,40

If anything came out of that dog’s butt in the next hour, it was all hers.

“Do you have a mat?” Cheryl asked, as I took my place between the women sitting on the floor.

I shook my head and she handed me a soft, squishy purple mat. Cujo looked at me, as if asking a question.

“You can go there.” I pointed to the side and he walked off and did exactly what I said. I caught Samirah gazing at me out of the corner of my eye and I flashed her another serious look. I knew what she was thinking.

“Not. My. Dog!” I mouthed to her, but she only smiled in that sage-like way that she did. It was wildly irritating, yet her smiles kind of warmed me too. I couldn’t remember the last time a smile had warmed me like that. I couldn’t help but return it.

“Greetings and salutations, ladies and animal,” Cheryl said in a whispery voice. “We have two new souls joining us today on this journey, please join me in welcoming her and her canine companion.”

“Not my—” I started and stopped when I saw all the faces around me smile. Some of the faces even reached out and placed hands on my shoulders, whilst others gave me waves and one even gave me a praying hand emoji. They all looked so serene. I don’t think I’d ever seen such a serene bunch of people before. Maybe this was what meditation did for you? I’d once downloaded a meditation app, but I’d found it extremely boring.

“Please, lie back and get comfortable on your mats and start breathing deeply and clearing your minds.”

I lay back, feeling a little uncomfortable with this communal lying about. I closed my eyes but flicked them open when a very strange sound rang out. I looked over at Cheryl who was rubbing something that looked like a rolling pin against big brass bowls. A noise like I’d never heard before settled into the air around me. I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath. Go with it, go with it, Frankie, I told myself, even though I still wasn’t sure I wanted to go with it. This all seemed a little too spiritual for me, despite my previous wish to have a spiritual experience, but I guess it beat being bored in a hotel room. I focused on the soothing noise and Cheryl’s mystical-sounding voice. I bet she practiced that voice when she was alone.

“Now,” Cheryl continued, calmly and softly, “I want you to think of a time that you felt a negative emotion.” Wait . . . Why did she want us to think of this? I thought this was all about not thinking. I readjusted myself; I was starting to feel more and more uncomfortable.

“Get comfortable, take your time,” the voice said. I was sure she’d seen me wriggling.

“Deep breath in,” she coaxed and I tried to do what she was asking. I took a deep breath and suddenly, without my permission, and without having to dig that far into my mind, the negative feelings flooded me. My stomach tightened. I didn’t like this one little bit and I wanted to stand up and leave.

“Now think of that feeling washing away. Think of a bright white light rushing into you. A warm light sweeping over you and sweeping all the negativity away. Imagine that negative thought flying out of the tips of your toes and leaving you.”

I rolled my eyes in my head. It was all a little ridiculous for me . . .

Wait! What was that? I tightened my eyes and heard something deep inside my head. A song. My song. My favorite song in the world. This song had been the only thing that had made me feel better as a teen. I’d listened to it over and over again. It had been there for me in my darkest times.

I shuffled again on my mat as the sound of the song started creeping into me, mingling with the strange sounds of the bowls and with her voice. The song was by my favorite childhood band, a boy band. There had been posters of them plastered across my walls and ceiling, and on some days they had been the only smiling, friendly faces I had seen. The lyrics of the song I was thinking of had meant everything to me when I was younger.

“Special girl. You can be anything in the world.”

The five singers had crooned in their melodic