Nine Perfect Strangers

Carmel sat on a plush velvet couch in a snooty fashion shop specialising in the latest designer bodies.

Carmel wasn’t wearing a body. It was so wonderful and relaxing not wearing a body. No thighs. No stomach. No bum. No biceps. No triceps. No cellulite. No crow’s feet. No frown marks. No caesarean scar. No sun damage. No fine lines. No seven signs of ageing. No dry hair. No frizzy hair. No grey hair. Nothing to wax or colour or condition. Nothing to lengthen or flatten, conceal or disguise.

She was just Carmel, without her body.

Show me your original face, the one you had before your parents were born.

Her little girls sat either side of her on the couch, waiting for her to choose a new body. They were all quietly reading age-appropriate quality chapter books and eating freshly cut fruit. No devices. No sugary snacks. No arguing. Carmel was the best mother in the history of mothering.

‘Let’s find you a divine new body for your divine new life,’ said Masha, who was the manager of the shop. She was dressed as a Disney princess.

Masha ran her finger along a rack filled with different bodies on hangers. ‘No, no, maybe . . . oh, now this one is nice!’ She draped the body over one arm. ‘This would

look lovely on you. It’s very fashionable, and such a flattering shape!’

It was Sonia’s body. Her sleek blonde hair. Her trim waist.

‘I don’t like the ankles,’ said Carmel. ‘I prefer a more finely tapered ankle. Also, my husband’s new girlfriend has that exact same body.’

‘We don’t want that one then!’ said Masha. She hung it back up and selected another one from the rack. ‘How about this one? So striking. You’ll turn heads wearing this one.’

It was Masha’s body.

‘It’s amazing, but honestly, I don’t think I can carry it off,’ said Carmel. ‘It’s kind of too dramatic for me.’

Her daughter Lulu put down her book. She had peach smeared around her mouth. Carmel went to wipe it away but then she remembered she had no fingers. Fingers were useful.

‘That’s your body there, Mummy,’ said Lulu, and she pointed at Carmel’s body sagging on a doorhandle, without even a hanger.

‘That’s my old body, darling,’ said Carmel. ‘Mummy needs a new one.’

‘It’s yours.’ Lulu was implacable as always.

Masha held up Carmel’s old body. ‘It does look very comfortable,’ she said.

‘Could we at least take it in a few inches?’ said Carmel.

‘Of course we can.’ Masha smiled at her. ‘We’ll make it beautiful. Here. Try it on.’

Carmel sighed and put back on her old body.

‘It really suits you,’ said Masha. ‘Just some minor adjustments.’

‘I quite like the ankles,’ admitted Carmel. ‘What do you think, girls?’

Her daughters threw themselves at her. Carmel marvelled at the blue veins in her hands as she cupped her daughters’ heads, the thump of her heart and the strength of her arms as she hefted a little girl on each hip.

‘I’ll take it,’ she said.

‘You’re going to love your body,’ said Masha.

chapter thirty-seven

Masha

My God, it is all going incredibly well, thought Masha. The therapy was working exactly as the research said it would. Carmel Schneider had just made a breakthrough in relation to her body-image issues. There had been a moment where for some reason she kept trying to take her clothes off, but Masha had put a stop to that and she’d just had a very good conversation with her about body acceptance.

The triumph was as tangible as a trophy, solid and gleaming gold in Masha’s hands.