Chapter 25
All the air suddenly leaves my lungs, like I’ve been jabbed in the solar plexus. I grab the barbeque stand for support while I quickly fathom what Nacho’s saying. I’m briefly aware of Tash losing it and yelling at him.
‘What the fuck is your brother messing around with Connie for if he’s getting married? Does she know?’
Brother? Getting married? Alex is his fiancée? Los Angeles? Not fucking complicated?
For a split second, Nacho’s face drops as he realises I’m standing right behind Tash.
He can probably see my devastated expression and my ‘I’ve just been shagging your about-to-be-married brother’ hair.
I don’t wait to hear the rest. I let out an accidental cry and stumble quickly back through the gate to the cottage.
I’ve been played, haven’t I?
What a fool I’ve been. I think quickly back to all those times that Matteo just happened to turn up as if destiny was sending us right into each other’s path.
Only it wasn’t, was it? He could’ve just asked his friggin’ brother where I was! Or even easier, he could’ve checked his brother’s Instagram and he would’ve seen where I was each day. I try to retrace my steps since we arrived as I wrench open the cottage door, slamming it behind me.
My mind is darting around, as though I’ve suddenly become a pathologist, fitting pieces of a grizzly crime puzzle together.
I have a flashback to Nacho telling me in the café that his brother was the good-looking, clever one!
No wonder Matteo knew this cottage so well.
He owns half of it! He probably does this all the time with whoever just happens to get the cottage.
My mind immediately conjures up disturbing images of Matteo and Nacho preying on the many women who come to stay, competing against each other, laughing at how gullible women can be.
Oh fuck, I think I’m going to be sick.
I run to the bathroom and throw up. Then I burst into huge, noisy tears that just won’t stop. My bed is still warm from him. My body still sore from him. My whole spirit was lifted from being with him.
He totally had me hook, line, and sinker, didn’t he?
I slide down onto the bathroom floor, double over and sob my heart out until I am drowning in self-pity.
I cry because I’ve been a fool, because I should have known the happiness would never last, because I’m still devastated my mother died and I’ve no other woman to turn to, because I have no idea what I’m doing with my life and I’m afraid I’m just going to waste it doing nothing.
I’ll be stuck on this misery train forever.
Out it all comes like a white-water rapid.
‘She’s in here!’ I hear someone yell loudly, and the door opens to reveal all the girls peering in at me.
‘I’m fine!’ I bawl, tears streaming down my face. ‘It’s nothing. I’m fine.’
They part in perfect formation to let Tash hobble through, ankle still like a couple of ripe beef tomatoes. ‘I’m guessing you heard me shouting to Enreeky, did you?’
I sniff loudly and nod my head, which brings a fresh stream of loud tears. Tash hands me a towel.
‘Come on, pet, we’ll look after you,’ says Liberty kindly. ‘We’ve all been there, haven’t we, girls? Remember me and Mehmet?’
They all nod their heads, and we listen to Liberty, who wants to get something off her chest. It’s the harrowing account of how she could have been Mehmet’s fourth wife if only karma had been kinder to her and blessed her with an accidental pregnancy to trap him with.
Even I have heard this story three times this week.
Big Sue reaches in and lifts me up like a newborn kitten and carries me through to my lounge. She puts me gently down on the sofa. The girls take a good look around.
‘What is this place?’ Cherry remarks. ‘How did you find it?’
‘Is this where you’ve been staying?’ asks Tash. ‘It’s fucking lush.’
Big Mand picks up the remote, presses a few buttons and they watch open-mouthed as a TV slides out, the air con blows, music plays and the twinkling lights transform the lounge into a magical romantic honeymoon suite.
I can’t help but remember that first soulful evening with Matteo. I let out a fresh howl of sobs.
‘I’ll neh… eh… eh… ver be happy eh… eh… ver again,’ I wail, remembering the way he set my pulse racing and my bones on fire with just a single touch.
‘Men are right users. They’re such twats, aren’t they?’ Cherry says, slinging her arm over Liberty, before suddenly turning to me. ‘Connie? Did he make you any sort of verbal contract? You know, like, any commitment that would render him liable? We could hit him where it hurts.’
‘Yes, or we could get the nuns to show him the meaning of respect,’ says Liberty.
‘No need. Big Sue’s a sensei in ju-jitsu. She could snap his neck like a twig.’ Big Mand demonstrates with her hands.
‘Erm, now I think about it,’ I say, slightly anxious at how things are escalating, ‘things weren’t quite that serious between us.’
Cherry elbows her way to me. ‘The hell they weren’t. We all saw what a fool you were prepared to make out of yourself for him. I know shame when I see it,’ she announces to everyone. ‘It is totally my thing.’
‘No, Cherry. Shame is my thing. I’m trained for exactly this sort of shitshow. I’ll handle it.’ Liberty lifts my chin. ‘People forget I’m not your typical blonde airhead doctor.’
‘Fuck off, Liberty. You’re not even a real doctor, never mind a typical one,’ says Cherry.
‘I have a PhD.’
‘Yes, but what in? Psychology? You’ve never actually said.’
‘Mood Management. It’s practically the same thing,’ Liberty says.
‘It’s not practically the same thing at all. Connie has real issues. She’s too intense, closed off, damaged.’
‘What she needs is to watch Netflix, the Bridgerton buttocks scene.’ Tash looks around. ‘Somebody, quick, get it on your phone. Whose account do we all use? Big?—’
‘I’ll never forget my first love,’ says Cherry, cutting her off. ‘Very powerful, Connie. Very raw. Very real.’ She reaches down to stroke my arm. ‘Robert… or Richard. No, it was Gary. That’s right. Gary.’
‘It wasn’t friggin’ Gary.’ Liberty frowns. ‘Unless he was two-timing you with me and his wife and his other wife.’
‘Come on, before they kick off,’ says Tash softly. ‘I’ve got something that will help.’
‘So, what kind of help is better than the Bridgerton buttocks scene?’ I ask through my tears.
‘Cocktails, love. Four for the price of one. At The Knee Trembler, remember?’ Tash gives my shoulder a squeeze.
‘No. Definitely not,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘We have a show to put on. A really important show. We can’t turn up drunk. We need to be really good.’
The Dollz look at each other.
‘She’s quite cute really, isn’t she?’ Liberty says. ‘She has no idea how all this works. None at all. Bless.’
Cherry clicks on some upbeat music and they all leap up.
Big Sue drags me to my feet. While I’m sniffing up tears and dancing around, I summon up a smile for the girls.
They may be nun-obsessed boozehounds at times, but at least they’re all here for me now.
Tash surprises me by reaching for my hand.
‘It’s just like me and Mehmet all over again,’ Liberty sighs, giving me a supportive shrug. ‘Only my two-week relationship lasted a lot longer than yours.’
‘Right, that’s enough crying over wankers for one day. Let’s go,’ insists Big Sue.
I am pulled from the room into the harsh light of day, across the pool to the kitchen where Big Mand, with her arm now the width of her leg, sets up tequila shots.
After two shots each, we are unanimous that we should get dressed up and head into Benidorm to see Michael Bubble play live at The Knee Trembler before we head to Voices to do our set before we get too drunk to walk.
‘That’s all that matters,’ I say.
The Dollz wait patiently for me to elaborate.
‘Friends. It’s friends.’
‘Friends,’ they chorus, and we clink glasses.
Suddenly, I need to own my truth. Own it big time.
I drape my arm around Big Mand’s shoulders while she is showing us how sexy a dance one-armed body-popping on the kitchen table can be.
‘I love you, Big Mand. You’re my best friend.
You’re all my best friends.’ I feel a gush of gratitude that they are here to share this traumatic experience with me.
‘Oh yeah, here’s your share of the kitty back,’ says Tash, pushing a basket full of money towards me. ‘And I think a man-free night will do us all good.’
‘Like a detox,’ agrees Cherry. ‘A cleanse and deflate. Let’s deflate ourselves of men.’
‘And Connie, we will choose your playlist for tonight. You should sing heartbreak songs and soft-rock ballads to expel the negative energy build-up. You like to take your audience on a journey, don’t you, pet?’
‘Great idea. She should do some accusatory songs about men being liars and cheats.’
‘And some heartbroken ones to show her despair and self-loathing and how it’s all his fault she’s a steaming mess.’
‘Yes, and then some “I’m over you” songs in case he’s there watching. Some real “fuck you” type angry woman anthems.’
I stare wide-eyed at them.
‘And then finish with something that says, “I don’t need you – I’ve moved on – you’re history, you piece of shit – I hope you rot in hell.”’
‘That’s quite the journey,’ I say worriedly. I just haven’t got the strength to argue or think straight.
As they charge upstairs, Tash yells, ‘Hoargghhhay can pick us up in an hour. Let’s get to it. Bring on the Girl Power. Connie, eyebrows! Make them strong tonight, love.’
I dash back to the cottage and throw myself into the shower to wash the smell of Matteo from my body.
I am a bit tipsy so it’s perfectly acceptable to completely overreact, I tell myself.
I am going to look stunning tonight and not like some easy fool taken for a ride by the first handsome prince to come along.
Well, he turned out to be quite the frog, didn’t he?