From Another Place Ch. 03

"Have you enjoyed your morning?" asked Tim.

Sally nodded. "Thanks, Dad, today is great."

We walked through to the dining room and found a table. A waiter took our order for drinks – I opted for a Bloody Mary, heavy on the Worcestershire sauce.

I looked at the menu. "Wow, this looks excellent. I think I'd like pâté, then the veal sounds good. Or maybe a steak, really rare."

Sally glanced at me. "Think I'll go for the melon. Steak sounds nice, but I prefer mine done for a bit longer."

The waiter brought our drinks, and we ordered – I went for the steak in the end.

"So how did the golf go?" Sally asked.

Bob grinned. "I think Tim's got the idea – I won the round by four strokes."

Our starters arrived, and I concentrated on spreading my pâté thickly on the toast that came with it.

"What's on the agenda this afternoon?" enquired Bob.

"Mud pack, then the beauty suite," answered Sally. "We get to try some different makeup."

Bob smiled. "Never understood that mud thing, myself."

We finished our starters, and the waiter brought the next course. "Gosh, that really is pink," Sally said, looking at my steak.

We passed on dessert – "Still got all that walking to do," said Bob – and Sally and I went back through into the spa.

"This looks like it," said Sally, and we went through a door into a light, airy room.

"Hi," said the girl sitting by the entrance. "I'm Jane, one of the beauticians here. You're booked for face packs, right?"

Sally nodded. "I've never had this before."

"Don't worry," said Jane. "Nothing to it. Take a seat." We sat down, and Jane said, "Before we get going, do you want music while you're here? Some people have trouble sitting still, not talking."

Sally nodded. "Something light."

Jane touched a control, and soft music came from concealed speakers.

She fetched a container, and said, "Do you want to go first, Amy? Then Sally can see that it's not so difficult."

"Sure."

I leaned back, and closed my eyes as Jane carefully applied the mud to my cheeks, then to my forehead, adding more layers.

"OK?" she asked.

"Mm-hm," I managed.

I turned my head, careful not to move my face, and watched as Sally received the same treatment.

"OK," said Jane. "So we leave that for a while – I'll be over there, if you need anything just wave."

I settled back, and reached out my senses, seeking Tim. I found him where I'd expected, walking round the golf course, and I watched in my mind's eye as he teed up for the next hole.

He raised the club, and as he went to strike the ball I gave him a tiny mental nudge.

"Oh, cracking shot," I heard from Bob Marshall. "Right on the green. Wouldn't be surprised if you made an eagle on that one." He teed up, and this time my mental nudge was more to distract his attention.

"Damn," he said. "In the rough at the side..."

I grinned mentally, and left them to it. Hopefully I'd done enough to take the shine off Tim's careful attempts to let his client win the afternoon's round as well.

I drew my attention back to the spa, and eavesdropped on Sally's thoughts for a moment.

Her mind was filled with a mixture of images – John the masseur, her idea of Raoul, someone else I didn't recognise – and I felt an inward satisfaction as her half-formed thoughts swayed between desire and guilt.

I was jolted out of my eavesdropping by Jane. "OK, time to take this off," she said. I submitted patiently as she carefully removed the mud from my face and wiped away the traces. "Does that feel better?"

"Mm," I said, "feels good."

I watched as Sally was released from the mud on her features, wriggling her nose and lips. "Hmm," she said, "it does make a difference, doesn't it."

She turned to the beautician. "Thanks, Jane."

Jane smiled. "No problem. Now scoot! it's time for the finishing touches."

Sally reached for my hand as we made our way down the corridor, and I felt the unaccustomed warmth of her fingers against mine.

"Here we are," she said, turning a corner. Despite myself, I stopped, impressed. Two chairs stood in front of a mirror, its frame surrounded by bright bulbs, and I saw every variety of makeup imaginable – powder, foundation, mascara, eyeshadow, nail polish.

"Come and sit down," invited the young woman standing to the left of the chairs. "I'm Marie, and I'll be doing my best to turn you two into works of art."

We sat, and she looked at us carefully. "Amy, you have... a wonderful complexion. Unusual – I don't think I've ever seen anything the same. I have some ideas, some quite dramatic shades, maybe even a smoky tint to the foundation?"

I grinned. "Sure."

She moved on to Sally. "Mm, Sally, you have such an innocent, clear look. Maybe for you something less dramatic, a few touches to bring out what you already have?"

"Screw that," said Sally. "I want the works. I want every man who passes me to look, look again, and keep on looking."