Massages, facials, and long soaks in hot baths were the best cure for stress.
Lily had to wonder what the cost to have her own imitation hot-spring put into her London home would be. Then she remembered that she was trying to sell said home to recoup some of the money that Julian had cost her, and that she would need to begin the entire process of house hunting once again when she returned to London. The very idea was stressful enough that she considered returning to the hot-spring for another few hours. Perhaps even sleeping in the spa and refusing to leave it until it was time for them to fly home.
All the pampering in the world still wasn't enough to get Takashi out of her mind. She'd thought him quite affable when he'd first come to her rescue, but the way his girlfriend reacted must have been a reflection on past behaviour. A normal person wouldn't fly off the handle the first time she saw her boyfriend with another woman. She would wait and hear an explanation, and trust that he was being honest with her.
Lily was sure she wasn't the first woman Takashi had flaunted in front of his girlfriend.
If walking side by side could be called flaunting.
Either way, she was resolved to believe that Takashi had been the guiltiest party in the couple's spat, if only because her own experience of men had left her predisposed to think badly of them.
The dirty, cheating beasts.
Grace had called for room service, and a platter of fruit sat glistening and fresh on the coffee table. Lily had taken up residence on the sofa. Her feet were tucked up beneath her, her hair was bundled up in a towel, and she felt snug at last in a set of flannel pyjamas. Her sketchbook was in her lap, and she carefully studied the flowers in the welcome bouquet. They were captured in charcoal lines on the page, their petals turning elegantly, their stems long and graceful, and the bursts of leaves framing and supporting them.
Lily set down the pencil and reached out to take a slice of apple. It was crisp, cold, and exploded with sweetness on her tongue. Suffice to say, the fruit in Japan was far more refreshing than most of the fruit she'd eaten in London. If one wanted to find truly delectable fresh fruit, it was always worth heading to the international markets and speaking directly to the traders and greengrocers. Everything in the supermarkets was so bland by comparison. Although Lily despised the sense of entitlement one gained when they acquired any measure of wealth, she supposed she was guilty of indulgences from time to time. Fruit didn't seem much of an extravagance, but there were people in the world who couldn't afford a single apple, and here she was, rich enough to have an opinion on where to source the finest apples the world had to offer. She liked to think she'd be just as happy with an apple from a supermarket as she would a fresh, organic apple bought direct from some upscale open market, but she knew different.
If she was really as averse to wealth as she so often professed, she could have easily given it all up.
Yet, she hadn't.
Lily wrinkled her nose and put down the half-eaten slice of apple. All of a sudden, it tasted bitter and sour, and she'd lost her liking for it.
Grace entered the room from her suite, a towel in her hand which she used to dry the ends of her silver flecked hair. 'It's been a while since I've seen you draw.'
'It hasn't been that long.'
'Not once since you met Julian,' Grace said. 'That's over a year.'
Lily drummed her fingers against the drawing.
Had it been that long?
Now she thought about it, she couldn't remember the last time she'd touched a pencil or slowed down long enough to take the time to draw anything that wasn't a stupid doodle in the corner of a napkin in a bar. Julian had occupied so much of her time with his demands to be seen in public in high-end establishments that the months had flown by in an instant. Everything that she'd wanted to do or had loved before they'd met had been pushed aside for the sake of making him happy, and for making memories together.
Was that what love was meant to be?
Was it supposed to be a whirlwind that left you exhausted at the end?
Whenever she thought about love, she thought about the first flutterings of a heart. The anticipation of seeing someone so she could tell them everything she'd thought or felt in their absence. It was the feeling of never losing that anticipation, no matter how long they'd been together, and of having new adventures, but also of enjoying peace and serenity.
Silence should never be uncomfortable when it was shared by two people who loved each other.
Lily thought that silence ought to be blissful.
It was a sanctuary. A calm. A haven in an unhappy world.
Silence was the moment in which two hearts could be heard and felt beating together.
There'd been no silence with Julian.
Julian had been all about noise. It was loud music in clubs. Raucous laughter at large dinner parties. The roar of engines when they set off in their expensive cars. The clink of glasses in first-class. And the shouts of paparazzi who tried to gain their attention at fashion events.
Then it had been the fights.
Then the slamming of phones onto receivers as they argued about their lawyer's demands.
Then it had been the sound of her entire world imploding, and the cacophony of gossip as her friends and co-workers judged her for ditching him over one indiscretion, and told her to think about the feelings of others before herself.
Yes, Julian had been far too loud for her.
Lily needed silence.
'It's good,' Grace said. She'd moved around the sofa and looked down at the drawing with a critical eye. 'I'm not sure you could do much with it.'
'A dress, maybe,' Lily mused. 'If it was better.'
'I've always liked your drawings, you know that,' Grace said.
'I'm out of practice.'
'You're just tired, that's all.' Her aunt patted her shoulder. 'There'll be a lot of time for you to find your feet again.'
Lily closed the sketchbook, disgusted at herself for letting her skills become so rusty. There'd been a time when she'd walked into her late mother's company with her head held high. She'd been proud of her talents that had been honed and refined for years so that she could truly claim she'd earned her place amongst the other designers working for the label. She was never seen without a notebook or a pencil, drawing inspiration from the noisy, busy, eclectic country all around her.
Lily had lived and breathed fashion, it had been her entire life. Now, for some unfathomable reason, she found it difficult to drag herself out of bed in the morning to face her own wardrobe, let alone to design one for someone else.
Every time she cast her eye over some new fabric swatch, she felt as if they were all various shades of beige and grey, dull and conservative, the sort of colours one might paint a wall in some regimentally organised civil service building.
When had she stopped looking for the brave and bold new movements in their company and elected to play it safe?
Lily couldn't be sure.
All she knew for certain was that she hated their brand, and that she'd let it become a mere shadow of her mother's vision.
Fashion was fun.
Fashion was freedom.
Fashion was an expression of a person's heart, for God's sake!
Well, maybe that was why it was so dull. Lily's own heart felt completely grey, and those muted feelings were seeping out into everything that she touched.
'Go to bed,' Grace said. 'Early start tomorrow. The car's going to pick us up first thing, we're going to have a little tour of the studios, and then there's a press conference.'
'A conference? Do I have to do anything?'
Grace laughed, 'No, of course not! You just have to follow me around and look attentive, that's all. You can watch the conference from the side, and afterwards I'll see if we can get you a look at the wardrobe department. How does that sound?'
'Fine, if that's really all.'
Grace smiled. 'Well, there might also be a dinner in the evening.'
'Knew it.'
'And I've made sure that there's an invitation for you.'
'I'm fine, I'll order more room service.'
'Lily, you are going to come to this dinner with me, do you understand?' Grace asked sternly. 'I've packed you a nice new outfit, and we're going to make a good impression on these people. If we're lucky, they'll decide to make a few more of my books into dramas. So this has to go well.'
Lily groaned, 'Fine. But I want some alone time this week, okay? Just one night at the very least.'
'I'm sure we can find the time for that. Now, bed.'
Lily unfurled herself and made her way to her room. She hoped very much that things wouldn't go well at the dinner. She had a sneaking suspicion that if they did, this would be the first of many trips to Tokyo, and after the day she had, Lily didn't know she could cope with many more.