Chapter 10
‘What?’ Priya’s voice is outraged. I’ve put my ear buds in and settled myself in the opposite corner of the bar from the other customers to video call her and Rosie. ‘What kind of Caribbean hotel doesn’t serve alcohol? You’re in Jamaica, for God’s sake. Rum is practically mandatory, isn’t it?’
‘Yeah, but this is a wellness spa,’ I explain quietly, repeating what the woman behind the bar told me. ‘Alcohol is technically a poison, which goes against the ethos of the place.’
‘So what do they have?’
‘None of the usual soft drinks, because of the sugar content. They have a range of smoothies, fruit teas and flavoured waters. The closest I could get to a normal drink was a mango kombucha.’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. Didn’t it say anything about it on the website? Something like that ought to be in big red letters. “This is a dry hotel, so don’t come here if you want to have a good time.”’
‘I don’t know,’ I confess. ‘It’s not the sort of thing I’d expect to have to look for and, if I’m honest, I kind of let the pictures do the talking.’
‘I’m going to check. If they don’t mention it on the site, I reckon that’s grounds to sue.’
‘What are you going to do about your roommate?’ Rosie asks while Priya is evidently perusing the website.
‘Throbbert? I don’t know. I just hope a room comes free before I snap and murder him. I’ve never met anyone so unpleasant. If I end up in prison, will you promise to come and visit me?’
Rosie smiles. ‘I guess I could fly out for a week, stay in a resort that does serve alcohol, and fit in a couple of quick visits between sunbathing sessions.’
I laugh. ‘You’re all heart.’
‘You’re out of luck,’ Priya says, rejoining the conversation. ‘There is a paragraph on the website that describes the ethos of the hotel and, unfortunately, that does say that they don’t serve alcohol or allow alcohol in the resort.’
‘How are they going to know?’ Rosie asks. ‘Tori could go and buy a bottle of rum from the nearest off-licence and secrete it in her room somewhere. Are they really going to go through every guest’s belongings with a fine-toothed comb each day, just in case they’ve got contraband hidden away?’
‘It wouldn’t surprise me,’ I tell her morosely. ‘Even if they didn’t, Throbbert would probably find it and drink it, knowing my luck.’
‘I really am sorry,’ she replies. ‘Let’s hope things improve somehow.’
‘I’m not hopeful. At this rate, I can see myself signing up for colonic irrigation, just to get away from Throbbert.’
‘Ugh,’ Priya snorts. ‘Who on earth would willingly have a hosepipe shoved up their bum? Or anything else, for that matter? If I were ever to get a tattoo, it would be text above my backside saying, “No entry. Give way to oncoming traffic.”’
‘I saw a programme about it once,’ Rosie tells us when we’ve finished laughing. ‘They used a clear tube so you could see all the poo and stuff coming out. It was weirdly fascinating.’
‘That’s an image I really don’t need in my head,’ I tell her.
‘So, is there anything good about this place?’ Priya asks.
‘The beach is nice, and it looks like I’m not going to have any trouble getting a sun lounger. Oh, and there’s a handsome pianist in the main bar.’
‘Is there?’ Priya says pointedly, raising an eyebrow. ‘I’m pleased that you’re noticing other men. I was worried you’d spend your time mooning about after Flipper.’
‘I can’t believe you didn’t know he was Dan’s brother,’ Rosie interjects. ‘I mean, you must have met his family when you were dating, didn’t you?’
‘Nope. He never invited me to his home. Knowing him, he probably had another woman stashed away there.’
‘How long has he been going out with the current girlfriend?’ Priya asks.
‘A couple of years.’
‘Bastard. Are you going to out him?’
‘I’d love nothing more, but Stuart’s got his counter-narrative all lined up and, as he told me quite clearly, it’s my word against his.’
‘What a disgusting weasel. I think I prefer Throbbert, on the whole. At least what you see is what you get with him.’
‘I could quite happily live without either of them.’
‘Tell me more about the handsome pianist.’
‘There’s not much to tell. His name is Gabriel, he’s got an English accent but seemed reluctant to tell me why, and he has very nice hands. He’s a bit of a mystery, actually.’
‘Hm. You don’t have good history with mysterious men,’ Priya observes.
‘Or any men,’ Rosie adds with a laugh.
‘He may have beautiful hands,’ Priya continues, ‘but the rest of him sounds like a red flag. Shame, because you could do with someone to keep your mind off Flipper. We don’t want a repeat of New Year’s.’
‘There is zero chance of that,’ I tell her firmly. ‘Even if he were the last man on earth, I’d still say no.’
‘Here’s a fun question,’ Rosie remarks. ‘There’s a massive global calamity and all of humankind is wiped out apart from you, Flipper and Throbbert. It’s your responsibility to start to repopulate the world with one of them. Who do you choose?’
‘I think humanity would be doomed in that scenario,’ I tell her.
‘OK, add in the mysterious pianist,’ Priya says, entering into the game.
I smile. ‘That might give us a fighting chance.’
‘Holiday romance?’ Rosie suggests.
‘No. Even if I were in the mood for something like that, my luck on this holiday so far would mean he’s got a wife and several adorable children.’
‘And I repeat my observations about Tori’s track record with mysterious men,’ Priya states. ‘This one has “Avoid” written all over him, if you ask me.’
‘Stuart isn’t mysterious,’ I tell her. ‘He’s just a bare-faced liar.’
‘Maybe you could somehow engineer a way for both Flipper and Throbbert to die in a freak accident,’ she observes after a moment’s thought.
‘Flipper is driving a speedboat, but you’ve fiddled with the steering, so he loses control and runs over Throbbert before hitting some rocks and perishing in a massive fireball. ’
‘I did have a daydream about running Throbbert over with a jet-ski,’ I admit.
‘I worry about the way your minds work sometimes,’ Rosie says.
‘Martin’s making his way through the James Bond films again,’ Priya replies. ‘There’s a lot of that kind of thing. Anyway, assuming you don’t act on your daydream, how do you plan to survive this man-pocalypse, Tori?’
I sigh. ‘Well, my original plan to spend the entire ten days soaking up rum at the pool bar has obviously gone up in flames, but I haven’t had time to come up with an alternative yet.
I can assure you both, however, that the alternative will not involve Stuart, Throbbert or any form of holiday romance.
Oh, and hosepipes up the bum are out too. ’
‘Look on the bright side,’ Rosie tells me. ‘The fact that it’s alcohol free significantly lessens the likelihood of you falling off your stool in a drunken stupor and drowning.’
‘Gee, thanks,’ I reply sarcastically.
‘Another way of looking at it is that it can’t get any worse,’ Priya offers. ‘I mean, what else could possibly go wrong?’
‘Oh, I don’t know. A volcanic eruption perhaps? Or maybe a typhoon. I wouldn’t put anything past this holiday.’
‘I can guarantee you won’t get a typhoon, at least,’ Rosie says with a smile.
‘How?’
‘Because typhoons only happen much further north. Round you, they’re called hurricanes and, if you were in the Indian ocean, it would be a cyclone.’
‘How on earth do you know that?’
‘It came up in a quiz once. Anyway, the point is that you’re safe from typhoons, and I think hurricane season in the Caribbean is around September time, so you’re probably safe from them too. You could have an earthquake, I suppose, and drown in a massive tsunami.’
‘I feel so much better now,’ I tell her. ‘You should take up motivational speaking with a repertoire like that.’
‘Well, it’s getting late,’ Priya tells me. ‘Keep us posted, won’t you?’
I’ve barely hung up before my two nemeses, Throbbert and Stuart, appear at the bar.
I can’t hear the conversation over the music from the piano, but their facial expressions are enough to tell me that neither of them knew that this was an alcohol-free hotel either, and the news hasn’t gone down well.
I’m sitting very still in the hope that they won’t notice me, but fate really isn’t on my side today, as Stuart turns his head my way and starts to lead Robert over.
‘Did you know this place was dry?’ Robert asks me accusingly when they reach my table.
‘Of course not,’ I reply. ‘I’m sure it will come as no surprise to you that the prospect of spending ten days without booze to make you even vaguely tolerable is not filling me with joy.’
I glance at Stuart, expecting him to come out in defence of his loathsome friend, but he’s engrossed with his phone. The reason soon becomes obvious.
‘There’s a bar about ten minutes’ walk from here,’ he says to Robert. ‘The Blue Dolphin. What do you think?’
‘Lead the way,’ Robert replies before turning to me. ‘I’d invite you to come with us, but I’d rather spend time with literally anyone else.’
‘Oh, the feeling’s mutual,’ I tell him, plastering my sweetest smile on my face. ‘Have fun, won’t you.’
As they walk away, it’s all I can do not to fire a few hand signals at their backs, but thankfully, my rational self kicks in. Yes, Throbbert may be the most unpleasant person I’ve met, but sinking to his level in the way I just did is not the solution. I need to be the bigger person here.
I’m so busy mentally beating myself up that it takes me a moment to notice that the music has stopped and the pianist looks like he’s packing up.
Given that it’s still early in the evening, I’m surprised.
I would have thought that this would be the time for the live music to start rather than end, particularly as the bar is now starting to fill up.
Out of curiosity, I get to my feet and walk over to the piano.
‘Leaving so soon?’ I ask Gabriel. ‘The evening is just beginning.’
‘Yes, I’m all done,’ he replies. ‘There will be another pianist along shortly. Do you mind me asking where your companions have gone?’
I’m torn. If I tell him, will he turn Robert and Stuart in to the resort management?
Despite the happy picture that forms in my head of them both being forcibly expelled from the hotel, I’m not a sneak, and I’m very aware that I’ve literally just given myself a firm talking to about not sinking to their level.
‘Why do you want to know?’ I ask carefully.
‘Just curious why you didn’t go with them, I suppose. It’s none of my business, I’m sorry.’
I study him, looking for any signs that he has a hidden agenda, but his expression is open.
‘The fact is,’ I tell him quietly so nobody else can hear, ‘we didn’t realise this was an alcohol-free hotel.’
Gabriel smiles. ‘If it’s any consolation, you’re not the first. Personally, I think it’s a misguided policy, but what do I know? I’m a musician, not a hotel manager. So I take it they’ve gone in search of a bar?’
‘The Blue Dolphin. Do you know it?’
‘I do, and I’m sorry to say I wouldn’t recommend it.’
‘Why not?’
‘Let’s just say that the business model is totally geared towards tourists like your boyfriend and his pal. The drinks are horribly overpriced, and there’s a suspicion among the locals that the spirits are not everything they seem. It’s not a good reflection of Jamaican hospitality.’
Something about what he’s just said is niggling at me, but my curiosity about the Blue Dolphin is overriding it. ‘When you say, “not everything they seem”,’ I prompt.
‘Cheap substitutes decanted into premium label bottles. Adding water to make the drinks go further, that kind of thing. There’s a good rule to help choose the right places to eat and drink here. If the locals use it, it’s probably good. Needless to say, the locals steer clear of the Blue Dolphin.’
This is useful information and I file it away. Maybe I can share it with Throbbert as part of my ‘be the better person’ initiative.
‘Is there another bar close by that you would recommend?’ I ask Gabriel.
He smiles again. ‘Absolutely. In fact, I’m heading there now. I could show you, if you like.’
Gabriel seems to have a knack for presenting me with dilemmas. The idea of heading to a bar where I could get a proper drink is very appealing, but wandering off with a strange man in a country I don’t know at all is idiotic at best.
‘How far away is it?’ I ask, more to buy time than anything else.
‘Five or six minutes along the beach, no more.’
Oh, God, this just gets worse. A beachside bar.
I know it’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever done, but the idea of sitting with a glass of something cold while watching the sun set over the sea is what the Caribbean was invented for, isn’t it?
Plus, surely fate must be done kicking me in the teeth by now.
It’s time something went right, for a change.
‘Sure,’ I tell him. ‘I’d like that.’