The Matchmaker (36 page)

Maggie had been in two minds as to what to do about their booking. Her first instinct had been to cancel it. However, a quick call to the spa had confirmed that a no-show would result in almost the full cost of the voucher being gobbled up in a cancellation charge. Urgent calls around to the girls and a few women friends had been to no avail. Grace was away in Amsterdam on business and Anna was in Connemara. Sarah would love to come but who would mind Evie at such short notice? Fran and Louisa were both busy and Rhona had her dragon of a mother-in-law Lily coming to stay for the week.

‘I could do with a bloody spa weekend,’ she moaned, ‘but Lily is already en route from Cork.’

So she was faced with a choice: cancel the break and forfeit the money, or go along on her own. Mustering her spirits she had opted for the latter course.

‘Mrs Ryan, as your guest cannot join you we can offer you a third night here instead,’ said the pretty receptionist as she checked in.

‘That would be lovely.’ She smiled, trying to mask the fact that with the exception of stays in hospital to have her children and the removal of her appendix she had actually never spent a night away from home totally on her own. It would be a new experience and, in this awesome setting amongst the trees and woods, she hoped a pleasant one!

Maggie had come prepared with books and magazines, determined that a solitary weekend in the countryside dedicated to body and soul was just what she needed to recharge her batteries and give her the impetus to sort out some new routines focused on the fact that she was now single. Her daughters had their own lives to lead and it was high time she laid down some kind of track of her own.

As she walked through the glass lobby and down the corridor towards her room she passed two couples in thick white towelling robes obviously off to the pool and jacuzzi area. She had already spotted the inviting open-air hot tub with its view of the lake and was dying to try it out herself. The spa was beautifully designed with a feature wall of glass, polished oak wood floors and plain white walls, which displayed a fabulous collection of abstract art. Rich-coloured woven rugs that depicted the elements of sky, earth, air and water warmed the austere simplicity of the decor.

Her bedroom was magnificent. Its ceiling-to-floor window overlooked a square of ornamental lavender and the wooden jetty that dipped into the lake. There was a massive king-size bed and oversized mauve and purple cushions provided a splash of colour against the pristine white cotton sheets and quiltcover. A rounded couch fitted snugly into the curve of the window with a matching footstool and simple oak table. The bathroom was like something out of a fancy magazine with two curving black basins and polished stone floors and walls. She discovered a small fridge, which held a selection of juices and waters and a few small bottles of organic wine. Leo would have loved this place, she thought as she perused the timetable of activities on offer over the next few days. Swimming, hydrotherapy, yoga, Pilates, dance, massage of every body part, wraps, exfoliation, hair removal, lymphatic massage and drainage, colonic irrigation, facial peels, along with mud and algae baths and a range of exotic-sounding treatments which she was tempted to try. Since Kitty couldn’t make it she had twice the amount of vouchers to use for pampering sessions and she had every intention of spoiling herself. She slid open the heavy glass and wooden door and stepped out on to her private deck, which contained two curving wooden chairs bedecked with plush sand-coloured cushions and two pots of scented lavender. She studied the list of other activities: forest-walking, pony-trekking, archery, sailing, kayaking, cycling, painting and clay-modelling. She would definitely try some of these and just wished that Kitty was along so that there were at least two of them making eejits of themselves.

She unpacked her bag and then, after studying the spa menu again, opted for a quick swim and a turn in the hot tub, and then she’d go for a walk to get her bearings and maybe book in tomorrow for a head massage and facial and an eyelash-tint.

She pulled her swimsuit from the case wishing that she had managed to stay on the Atkins Diet for a month instead of a measly six days, which had resulted in only a three-kilo loss. Tucking in her tummy she wrapped herself in the plush folds of the Anua wrap and slipped her feet into the matching cosy towelling slippers and made her way to the pool. Four other guests were already there and Maggie nodded to them as she slipped into the water and began to swim. The pool was amazing, giving the impression of being out in the open but protected from the elements by glass. One section of the glass concealed a door which opened to the open-air part of the pool and the magnificent hot tub and sundeck. She swam a few lengths up and down before stepping outside and into the hot tub. A couple in their thirties and an elderly woman in her seventies already seated there were chatting easily about the glory of the place and the dinner menu for the night.

‘The food here is divine,’ the older lady, who was a regular, assured them. ‘Better than most fancy restaurants and it’s all organic and natural.’

‘I heard that they grow most of the vegetables themselves,’ Maggie ventured.

‘If you go for a walk down past the rose bushes and follow the path you’ll come to the kitchen garden, the vegetable fields and the glasshouse. It’s full of tomatoes and I saw strawberries there. It makes a change to know where your food is coming from.’

The couple, Renata and Karl, were German and recommended the reviving mud bath. ‘Your skin will be glowing after it,’ promised Renata.

‘I’ll give it a go,’ Maggie said as she watched them walk off hand in hand. Yes, Leo would definitely have loved this place. OK, so she might have had to drag him kicking and screaming but once he’d arrived he’d have relaxed totally and gone with the flow. He’d have tried everything. She sincerely hoped the place wasn’t full of couples as it would only emphasize her own loneliness.

Strolling around the grounds she spotted three girls Grace’s age, a pre-wedding treat she imagined as she heard one of them mention guest lists and tables. She had ordered a herbal tea and a brown scone in the lounge, which she enjoyed before changing and heading off for her mud wrap. The Hungarian therapist patiently explained the benefits of the mineral-enriched treatments as Maggie tried to stop herself getting a fit of the giggles when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She looked like a big fat mud-baby and she thanked God there was no one around to witness the state she was in. The separate cubicles beside her were occupied and she heard a masculine guffaw of laughter from the one beside hers.

‘You ain’t seen nothing yet,’ said the hidden voice and Maggie laughed so hard that she thought that she was going to crack all her drying-out mud. After an hour the therapist cleaned her off with a strong spray of water and then massaged her with a sweet-smelling almond oil. Her skin felt like a new baby’s and she discovered that she was absolutely starving.

Back in her room she ignored the temptation just to crawl into bed and order room service and put on a turquoise linen dress that Leo used to like, clipped on the silver designer earrings that Grace had given her two Christmases ago and slipped on a pair of summer slingbacks. Her skin was glowing and she already felt as if she had been away for a few days. She grabbed an Anita Shreve paperback along with her handbag and made her way to the fabulous lakeside dining room. Candles flickered on every table and many of the tables were already full. She was shown to a small side table where, while perusing the dinner menu, she took a good look at her fellow spa guests. Couples; a group of girls away from their office giggling and chatting at the big table in the centre; the wedding girl and her two friends; and a small group of mature people who were arguing in the corner over wines. She’d order, read, eat quickly and slip away to bed early, she decided, but for the moment she’d enjoy the view as the sun set slowly over the water, the sky tinged with crimson.

Leila her waitress was chatty and friendly and was pleased to tell her about the various dishes. She had no intention of dieting strictly here and opted for the healthy eating options which included salmon served on a bed of summer salad, followed by roast lamb and sweet potato and vegetables. She wouldn’t drink a bottle of wine on her own and ordered a glass of chilled Chablis to start. She hated picking wines and had always relied on Leo’s knowledge to guide her and was relieved to find the wine she’d chosen was perfect. Two very pregnant friends sitting at a table close by her ordered a fruit punch as they tucked into two big steaks and a gigantic salad.

She relaxed, sipping her wine and, trying not to eavesdrop on their conversation, picked up her book so she didn’t look quite so forlorn.

‘Excuse me,’ said a voice and she looked up over the rim of her reading glasses. ‘I was sitting over the far side of the room and I noticed that you are on your own. I was wondering if you would like to share a table over dinner, enjoy a bit of conversation and companionship as we eat.’

Tight-cut silver hair, a broad face, attractive in an ageing rugby player kind of way, a wedding ring firmly on his finger, she noticed.

‘Only if you want to,’ he added, about to move away.

‘That would be lovely,’ she found herself saying, slipping her book off the table and back into her bag. ‘Please sit down and join me,’ she offered.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course,’ she reassured him as the waitress carried over his drink from the other table and placed the bottle of red wine in front of them.

‘I’m Myles, Myles Sweeney,’ he said, introducing himself as he sat down.

‘And I’m Maggie Ryan.’

‘I often find that there is nothing harder than sitting at a table in a restaurant on your own,’ he said.

Maggie had to agree with him. It was a situation she hated and avoided as much as she could. Often she went hungry rather than face the embarrassment of eating alone in a restaurant or hotel. A little company for an hour was certainly not going to kill her and might actually be fun!

Over dinner she discovered that he had been widowed two years ago: his wife Patricia had died of breast cancer. He had two grown-up sons, two daughters-in-law and five grandchildren.

‘Patricia was there for the weddings and three of the christenings and got a few years longer than her doctors and everyone expected,’ he confided. ‘She was a great mother.’

Maggie told him about Leo and her own loss, and could see the understanding and sympathy in his eyes. The two of them laughed out loud when they discovered that each had been sent to the spa by their respective families.

‘The girls were determined to send me, get me out of their hair. My youngest is throwing a party tomorrow night and doesn’t want her elderly mother there cramping her style!’

‘Less of the elderly,’ he retorted. ‘Besides I can’t imagine you would cramp anyone’s style!’

‘Well, I try not to,’ she admitted.

‘My boys are going on about me losing weight,’ he confessed, offering her a glass of red wine. ‘It’s hard. Ever since Patricia’s death, I tend to eat a lot of takeaways or have big business lunches. It’s no fun cooking for one or just using those microwave meals. The boys worry about me and thought I should take a bit of time out for myself. Fresh air and a healthy regime! I had that mud wrap thing earlier and it’s like being trussed up like an oven-ready chicken; you should have seen the state I was in!’

Maggie burst out laughing. ‘I heard you,’ she admitted.

He was a nice man and rather funny and to her surprise Maggie found herself relaxing and enjoying uncomplicated male companionship. He insisted on her sharing his wine and Maggie, looking around, felt the two of them were the same as everyone else here as they chatted and relaxed. They both went for fresh raspberries and cream for dessert; over coffee Myles told her about his business. She noticed people moving across to the comfort of the lounge with its plush couches and footstools, and was surprised when Myles excused himself and said goodnight, thanking her for the good company.

‘Goodnight,’ she said watching his tall figure lumber past the waitress, who had started to clear the tables.

She yawned. Perhaps it was time she went to bed herself, the goosedown quilt and crisp clean sheets beckoned. She would read for a bit.

Standing out on the wooden deck in the moonlight before slipping between those sheets, she thought of Leo, so far away, in another world, another dimension. ‘Goodnight, my love,’ she whispered as she closed the door and pulled the curtains.

Sarah’s heart was in her mouth when she heard that Aunt Kitty was sick and it looked as if her mum’s trip to the spa in Kilcara was about to be cancelled. Her mother had encouraged her to invite a few friends over on Saturday evening and already she had invited fifty people to a ‘small party’ in the house and she had visions of a nightmare day trying to scale it back.

‘What are you going to do?’ Grace asked on the phone from Amsterdam where she was assessing a property for a client.

‘Fingers crossed Mum will still go. She was on to the manageress of the spa and she said they can’t refund the cost at this late stage. She was even trying to get me to go with her but I said I couldn’t because of Evie, and anyway I’m looking forward to the party.’

‘The party will be great, Sarah. I’ll phone her and encourage her to go on her own,’ promised Grace. ‘And I’ll see you tomorrow night. My flight is the last one out of Schiphol to Dublin so I’ll probably come straight on, OK?’

Maggie Ryan, despite her qualms, had indeed gone on her own, and had insisted on donating half a dozen bottles of white wine to the party and told Sarah to use her candles around the house and garden.

‘Candlelight always adds to the atmosphere, no matter what the time of year,’ she said, hugging Sarah goodbye. ‘Have a great time, pet, and say hello to everyone from me.’

Sarah spent the whole of Saturday cleaning and tidying the place and setting up tables in the garden. She had made a big dish of spicy chicken and another of minced beef in a light chilli sauce; she would serve them with tacos and fajitas and all the trimmings and two huge bowls of salad. Everyone could help themselves. She believed in keeping it simple. She would lay them out on the big table in the kitchen and if the weather was good people could go outside and find a seat. There were fresh towels and clean soap in the bathroom, and her mother’s clutter of newspapers, magazines, letters and papers that strewed the kitchen and the living room were banished to her dad’s old study. A quick run of the Hoover and a few flowers from the garden flung into her mother’s collection of glass vases and the place looked great.