The Beginner's Guide to Loneliness

by Laura Bambrey

  ‘Help! Help!’ I shout. I start to giggle, but it quickly becomes hysterical as I struggle to get the mutt off me.

  ‘Dennis, HEEL!’

  The shout from the doorway makes us both jump. The reaction from the dog is amazing. He immediately slinks away from me, giving me these little backwards glances as if I’d started the game just to get him into trouble.

  ‘Don’t give her that look, you naughty hound. I’ll tell Bay and then you’ll be in trouble. Are you okay?’

  I scramble to my feet, wondering who this angel of mercy is. Whoever she is, she’s only about thirteen years old. Thirteen and extremely sure of herself. Standing in the doorway of the yurt, petting the ears of a now cowering Dennis, is the teenager I nearly sat on in the back of the Land Rover earlier. With her long, shiny black hair drawn over one shoulder, her large, melting brown eyes stare back at me as I struggle to my feet and attempt to dust myself off. She may be dressed like the bad fairy out of a pantomime, but there’s something in the girl’s look that makes me feel incredibly inadequate.

  ‘Erm. Hi there. Thanks for that!’

  ‘S’okay.’ She leans against the wooden prop, jutting out a bony hip. ‘You okay? Not hurt?’ She doesn’t look particularly worried, more like she feels like she has to ask.

  ‘I’m fine, a little bit damp around the edges. I’m Tori by the way.’ I hold out my hand. The girl simply stares at it until I start to feel mildly stupid, and let it drop to my side. Please can I go back to being mauled by the dog now? That was way more comfortable.

  ‘I’m Rowan. I thought I’d come and say hi and just let you know that if you need anything, I’m your man.’ She gives a tiny, casually indifferent shrug of the shoulders.

  ‘Rowan? You’re Ted and Lizzie’s daughter?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Oh, well that’s really kind, thanks. Your parents have been great so far.’ I feel wrong-footed.

  ‘No, I don’t think you get it. If you need anything . . .’

  Is this kid trying to sell me drugs? I stare at Rowan, mouth open slightly, wondering what to say next. Rowan rolls her eyes at me.

  ‘I mean, if you want to send an email, want some decent shampoo, a bit of non-perfumed deodorant. Basically, anything on the banned list.’ She smiles, obviously proud of herself. ‘Course, I don’t offer my services to everyone, only a chosen few, but when I saw your shoes I knew you’d be interested. Just don’t tell anyone else unless you clear it with me first.’

  I smile. I can’t help it. Rowan is going to make an excellent businesswoman. Identify a niche, find your captive audience, make your products available.

  ‘Here’s my price list. I can get you practically anything that’s not on the list too, provided that it’s legal, but there’ll be an extra charge.’

  I take the handwritten photocopy, plainly done in a stolen moment at school, and glance down the list. Coffee, deodorant, mobile phone use billed by the (extortionate) minute, email checking and printing service, mobile internet access. There’s no end to the everyday needs of the average product-deprived, technology-starved guest that Rowan isn’t catering to.

  ‘Tell my parents, I’ll deny everything and you’ll likely be lynched by my other customers.’ She treats me to a brief moment of the pure evils before giving me a quick smile. ‘Anyway, if you need me, let me know.’

  ‘Uh, right. Great. Thanks . . .’ I’m so taken aback by this old, cynical head on such young shoulders, I find myself at a loss for words for a couple of seconds.

  ‘And if I do need you?’ I finally ask.

  ‘Leave me a note in the crack of the gatepost at the bottom of the field. Oh, and don’t let Dennis give you any shit. Bay makes out like he’s such a big, scary dog, but he’s a complete softy . . . like any man if you know how to handle him. See ya!’

  With her piece said, Rowan turns on her heel and heads out again, no doubt to continue making the rounds of all the most likely candidates to take her up on her offer. I’m guessing that she’s well-versed enough to avoid the open-air sleepers like the plague. They seem so diehard about the whole experience that they’d probably drop her in it straight away and try to forcibly cleanse her aura while they were at it. As for me, I’ve got a feeling that Rowan’s services might come in handy at some point in the very near future.

  I glance over to where Dennis is still sitting, gazing out of the yurt entrance, tail slowly wagging from side to side.

  ‘So, you’re a softy after all. Who’d have thought?’ I murmur. I wander over to him and place a tentative hand on top of his head.

  *

  I spend the next couple of hours curled up on my bed and, with Dennis snoring away on one of the many coloured rugs, I finally read the course handbook properly, from cover to cover. By the time I’ve finished, the knot of fear that has been lurking in my chest ever since I arrived seems to be trying to throttle me. I thought knowing exactly what I was in for over the next three weeks might calm me down. I thought wrong.

  I mean, I knew when I accepted the offer to come here and take the course that parts of it would be challenging, but what these guys do is serious. Basically, it’s a chance to reprogramme any behaviour that’s holding you back. I somehow thought I might be able to get away with watching it all unfold for everyone else without really having to deep-dive into my own issues too far. But, from what I’ve just read, and with such a small group of us, fat chance of that!

  The retreat is divided up into three themes, one per week. Week one is spent getting to know and trust each other; week two is all about discovering where we’re stuck and breaking down barriers; and week three looks at how we can use what we’ve learned in our day-to-day lives. I mean . . . gulp.

  Of course, I also came across all of the bits I’d missed before about handing over phones and iPads, and the fact that you have to walk down the lane the first time you come here. The other major discovery is that every day there’s a session called ‘Bodywork’. Yes, it’s exactly like it sounds. These guys are fans of exercise – especially first thing in the morning. Gah! I take a deep breath and try to stem the wave of panic. I just need to take all of this one step at a time.

  I check Bay’s watch and realize that I’d better start trying to find my way back towards the house and, as Bay hasn’t reappeared, I guess I’d better take Dennis with me. It’s not like I can just abandon him here.

  I look everywhere for a lead to attach to his collar. Either Bay doesn’t own one, he’s got it with him or he doesn’t believe in them and will give me grief about imprisoning his dog. I quickly give up the search, mainly because Dennis is shadowing my every move, wagging his tail madly and pushing his nose into everything I touch. I pull a long, silk scarf out of my case and wind it around his collar a couple of times to use instead.

  To my huge surprise, Dennis instantly becomes a model citizen. He doesn’t pull, sits at my feet waiting patiently until I give him the nod that we’re leaving and then trots daintily to heel. He looks so incredibly snooty on the end of his scarf that I can’t help but laugh. Maybe I could learn to love dogs after all.

  *

  I’m finding it surprisingly difficult to navigate my way to the farmhouse. Just as I consider retracing my steps and starting again – or calling out until help finds me – Dennis begins to pull very decidedly to our right. I’ve got nothing to lose at this point, so let him take the lead and follow his nose. I’m guessing there’s a good chance that he’s heading in the direction of food, which makes it likely that he’ll find the farmhouse a lot faster than I will.

  Pretty soon, instead of ending up where we need to be, we’re crossing yet another muddy field, completely lost.

  ‘You idiot, Dennis!’

  The dog carries on pulling ahead and, to my relief, I spot a tall figure climbing the gate at the opposite side of the field. I might be lost, but the dog certainly isn’t.

  ‘Dennis, what on earth are you wearing?’ laughs Bay as he strides over towards us. ‘Tori, I see
you two’ve made friends? I’m glad. If Dennis likes someone enough to let them put him on a lead, it usually means I’ll get on okay with them too.’

  ‘I think we’ve called a truce, but only after he pinned me and practically drowned me in slobber!’

  ‘I’m sorry, he does get a bit overexcited sometimes. How did you get out of that? It’s his favourite game . . . usually goes on for hours.’

  ‘Rowan saved me.’

  ‘Ah. Well no doubt she’ll bill you for it later,’ Bay laughs. ‘Poor old Dennis is terrified of her. So am I a little bit!’

  ‘I don’t blame you!’ I laugh.

  ‘So what services did she offer you then?’ he asks, giving me a sly look.

  ‘How do you know about that?’

  ‘Oh, come on, I’ve been doing this for years,’ Bay grins.

  I just shrug at him.

  ‘Anyway,’ he says, ‘why on earth are you all the way out here? Surely it must be about time for the meeting? If not, I’m completely out of whack and need my head seeing to.’ He reaches out and takes my hand, raising the watch up to take a look. ‘Yup, just as I thought, time to be heading homeward. And don’t let Dennis lead you astray, he’ll take you off on a jaunt any time of the day or night, depending on what he fancies!’

  ‘You are a bad, bad dog,’ I smile, bending down to ruffle his ears. Dennis raises his chin for a tickle and thumps his tail on the ground.

  ‘I still can’t believe you managed to get him on a lead. All joking aside, he usually goes ballistic and then refuses to budge an inch.’

  *

  I’ve been so focused on finding my way back to the farmhouse, and then actually enjoying the quiet stroll with Bay, Dennis trotting along between us, that I’d briefly forgotten where we’re going and the fact that I’m completely dreading this evening. After reading the handbook, I know that the welcoming ceremony is an important part of the process. But right now, I’d much rather be back in the yurt than headed towards an evening with a group of people I don’t know.

  ‘You’re really quiet. Everything okay?’ Bay asks, dragging me out of my rapidly spiralling panic. I realize that I’ve been walking along, chewing my lip in silence for a good ten minutes.

  ‘Just a bit nervous about this evening.’

  Bay nods. ‘Fair enough.’

  Silence lands heavily between us again, and I feel like it’s my turn to try to make some kind of small talk.

  ‘I thought we weren’t allowed back into the main house?’ I ask as we reach the field gate and head into the yard.

  ‘The meeting’s not in the house. It usually starts in the old hayloft and goes on from there,’ he says, leading the way around behind the house and into a cobbled courtyard. Directly opposite us, a wide flight of stone steps runs up the side of one of the barns. The rest of the group are already gathered below, and there’s the hum of low conversation as we head towards them.

  ‘Are you going to be okay?’ Bay asks gently, lowering his voice.

  ‘Sure, fine.’ I bend down and rub the top of Dennis’s head. He really is better than a teddy bear right now.

  ‘He never misses the welcoming ceremony, you know,’ Bay says, nodding at the dog. ‘He likes to know who’s around as much as the rest of us.’

  I nod, feeling oddly relieved that my newfound friend will be a part of the proceedings. I hand the lead over to Bay and he unwinds it from Dennis’s collar.

  ‘Thanks for the loan,’ he smiles, handing the scarf back to me. I stuff it in my pocket, feeling a bit daft. Clearly Dennis doesn’t really need a lead, and there he was trotting to heel all the way down the field.

  ‘Sorry, I wasn’t sure if he was allowed to roam free or not.’

  ‘It’s fine, and probably a good job you did, otherwise he’d have just pottered off and left you up in the fields. He’s pretty much got the run of this place as he’s so placid, and he always turns up when he’s hungry.’

  As if on cue, Dennis looks up at us both, wags his fat little tail a couple of times and disappears off to check everyone else out.

  ‘I’d better go and see if they need any last-minute help setting up.’

  ‘Of course,’ I nod, swallowing.

  ‘Catch you later, then,’ Bay smiles and jogs lightly up the steps.

  Just as my nerves ramp up another notch, I feel a warm hand on my shoulder and turn to find Doreen grinning at me, though she looks so different I do a bit of a double take. She’s removed her fuchsia lipstick and what must have been liberal coatings of foundation, mascara and eye shadow. She looks soft, and friendly, and so much younger.

  ‘Hi! Tori, isn’t it?’

  I nod.

  ‘I’m Doreen, and my hubby’s called Geoff, though goodness knows who he’s gossiping with at the moment!’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ I croak.

  ‘So what’s your place like? I’ve been dying to ask but didn’t want to interrupt you and that rather tasty young man . . .’

  ‘Tasty?’ I laugh. I can’t help it. ‘I booked my spot right at the last minute, so I’m sharing a yurt . . .’

  ‘Oh, gorgeous! That’ll be really cosy, I bet. Who’re you sharing with? What’s she like?’

  ‘Erm. That was him. Your tasty little morsel. And that little devil polishing your hand is his dog.’

  Doreen looks down at Dennis and pats him on the head. ‘That’s so unfair. I get landed with Geoff for three weeks in a tiny wooden cabin and you end up in a luxury canvas palace with a sex god and his minion . . .’

  ‘What’s this?’ chuckles Geoff, materializing at my side.

  ‘Tori was just telling me how she’s living in a palace with a sex god, while I have to put up with you!’

  ‘I never said . . .’

  ‘Don’t mind her, love. She reads a lot of steamy romance,’ Geoff stage- whispers in my ear.

  Doreen sticks her tongue out at him good-naturedly.

  ‘But you’re all right, are you? Happy with where you’re staying?’ Geoff asks.

  ‘Sure, it’s okay. Me and Dennis are already friends.’

  *

  Everyone around us seems to have teamed up into little groups. There’s a great deal of earnest talking, nodding and beard-scratching going on over in the Beardy Weirdies’ corner. It seems these guys are serious about being serious and, by the sound of the snatches of conversation I’m able to pick up, they’re playing an eco version of ‘who’s got the biggest willy?’. In this instance, ‘who’s got the smallest carbon footprint?’.

  ‘Hello, Tori. How are you settling in?’

  I jump. Lizzie’s standing right next to me. How is it that this woman, who is currently the size of a house, is able to sneak up unheard? It’s unnerving.

  ‘Very well, thanks. It’s a beautiful place.’

  Lizzie swells with pride. I wish she wouldn’t. I really don’t want her to explode.

  ‘Thank you. We try. We pride ourselves on the energies we have encouraged from the land. All our visitors leave us in a better place than they arrived. And you’re happy in the yurt?’

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ I reply on autopilot.

  ‘And the company?’ Lizzie’s voice seems to take on a slightly sharper edge.

  ‘It’ll be great to have someone around who knows what direction he’s going in,’ I reply.

  Lizzie claps her hands like a three-year-old. ‘That’s what I told Ted. You need a strong, warming influence. Someone who knows their place in the world and their spirit’s destination. You are very perceptive, Tori. Bay has exactly what you say: direction.’

  I smile tightly and keep my mouth closed. Lizzie smiles back at me, nods happily and floats off to interrogate the Beardy Weirdies.

  ‘Not quite what you meant, that, was it?’ Doreen asks, grinning wickedly.

  ‘Erm . . . no. I just meant that it’ll be great to have someone around who knows which direction the bog is in and where to find the next session.’

  ‘Thought as much. So, have you finally read the
handbook?’

  ‘How did you know I hadn’t already?’ I demand.

  Geoff laughs. ‘You should have seen your face when they told you to hand over your phone.’

  ‘I tried to cram it in on the journey here, but seems I missed quite a few important details. Anyway, I had the chance to read it all the way through this afternoon.’ Just mentioning it makes the butterflies start to swoop in my stomach again.

  ‘That’s good . . . You’d be in for a few shocks over the next couple of weeks otherwise!’ says Doreen.

  I reckon we’re all in for a shock or two whether we’ve read the handbook or not, but I keep that thought to myself.

  Chapter 7

  Learning to Trust Again

  ‘There are a lot of factors that contribute to loneliness. Some come from inside us, and some come from external influences beyond our control. It’s natural to withdraw into yourself after being treated badly. How can we trust someone not to hurt us like we’ve been hurt before?’

  ©TheBeginnersGuideToLoneliness.com

  *

  ‘Friends. Welcome.’ Lizzie pauses, staring around at us all from her precarious perch halfway up the steps. She lets the pause drag on just that little bit too long, until we’re all collectively shifting our weight. ‘We are now going up into the loft to start our work in earnest. Each of you will begin your quest tonight.

  ‘Before coming up these steps, please ask yourself one last time if you are truly committed to changing your life. In this moment, right now, you can still walk away and return to your life the way it is.’ She pauses again. ‘If you stay, and climb these steps, things will start to change.’

  I look at Doreen, who raises her eyebrows at me in amusement. I can’t help but shake my head.

  Geoff bends his head and murmurs in my ear, ‘Run, Tori, run . . . save yourself!’

  I swat playfully at his arm, but I can’t help but feel a bit of a nervous twitch. There’s a tiny part of me that wants to listen to him and hotfoot it straight back up the lane. What on earth am I about to let myself in for? But then I think about my empty little flat. Do I really want to go back to that right now?