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look great. And in the end we decided to call each product simply Red, Blue or whichever colour, so that the range had a strong identity and the rainbow theme really stood out. We would put the full product name underneath that, in much smaller writing.
    I put the kettle on for coffees then and Mum popped out to get some croissants from the corner shop. I was just walking back through from the kitchenette with the tray of mugs when she came back in. She was looking really shaky and pale, and instead of a bag of croissants she was clutching a leaflet.
    â€œOh no, didn’t they have any left?” Saff said.
    â€œAre you okay?” Grace asked.
    Suddenly a really bad feeling came over me, like a darkness swooping down and settling right in the centre of my chest. “Mum?” I croaked. “What is it?”
    But she didn’t speak. Instead, she lurched over to the purple velvet sofas and Grace had to sit her down. It looked like she was in shock.
    The blackness deepened around me then and I put the tray down before I dropped it. “Mum, what’s happened? Has there been an accident?” I gasped.
    She came round then. She shook her head slightly and then passed me the leaflet. Her hands were trembling.
    I took in what it said (and why Mum was so upset) in one glance. And then I couldn’t speak either.
    â€œOh, for goodness’ sake,” Grace snapped, snatching the leaflet from me. “What can be so awful that…oh.”
    â€œWhat?” Saff demanded. “Come on, Grace. What?”
    â€œThe Sanderton, that boutique hotel just down the road from us…they’ve opened a swanky new spa, and they’re promoting it to the locals,” Grace mumbled. “They’ve got amazing offers on here.”
    Saff grabbed the leaflet and read out loud, “‘ The Sanderton is proud to introduce its new Haven Spa. Indulge yourself with the latest luxury treatments and state-of-the-art facilities for the ultimate pampering experience’ . Oh my God. What an absolute nightmare,” she gasped. For once, I didn’t think she was being overdramatic.
    â€œWe can’t compete with this,” Mum muttered, finding her voice again. “I mean, look on the back of the leaflet – it offers everything we do, and it has a pool, sauna and steam room as well. Which means they can do day pamper packages with lunch.”
    I felt sick and trembly too, but I reached for something positive to say. “It’s not like we’re the only beauty place in Totnes,” I pointed out. “There’s a big spa at The Royal Devon, but that’s never bothered us.”
    â€œThey’re much further away,” said Grace. “And they don’t target locals – it’s really just for hotel guests on package deals. These leaflets have been put round in the shops for local people to pick up. Our customers .”
    â€œI don’t even understand how they can offer these services for such low prices,” Mum said. “I mean, look at this – a massage with free facial for £25. And this – free manicure when you book a pedicure.”
    Grace peered at the leaflet over my shoulder and raised her eyebrows. “Those offers are loss leaders, to get people in the door,” she told us. “They won’t make money on them, but they hope clients will spend on products, and book in for extras and other treatments at higher prices. It’s like the supermarket selling beans for 10p and then once you’re in there you buy other full-price stuff. The Sanderton’s part of a chain. Head office is probably paying for this.”
    Hearing that, it felt like my stomach had dropped into my shoes. “But how are small businesses like us supposed to compete against that?” I stuttered.
    â€œWe aren’t,” Grace said flatly.
    I really thought I was going to throw up then. We’d just got the business going, and now it looked