Chapter 36
There’s no sign of white jeans man as I enter the Chill Lounge for my second attempt at the singles’ mixer.
I also don’t see Harper or Jess, which is perhaps a blessing given that I’m twenty years older, with the sparse eyebrows of someone who overplucked in the nineties.
I did, however, change into my emerald-green, Audrey Hepburn-style swing dress and I’m loving myself right now.
It’s not nearly as busy as it was last time. I wonder if everyone has already paired off. Have they levelled up to a different lounge, where they serve actual orange juice and not that watered-down shit they have in the buffet?
I notice that there are fewer women than last time, and the men notice that too.
Some stand around quietly surveying the area while others flit between women, casting their line, praying that at least one will eventually bite.
All the dating events I endured in London combined were less painful than this.
However, as much as I choose to believe that I’m above all of this, the truth is that we’re all looking for the same thing. A connection.
Bellini in hand, I take a seat near the entrance, planning to drink up and be anywhere else. It isn’t long before I’m approached.
‘I’m Colm. Can I buy you a drink?’ he asks. I’m tempted to remind him that it’s all-inclusive, but I don’t want to piss on his chips. Besides, I’ve already inadvertently upset the come here often guy so I’ll play nice.
‘I’m fine,’ I reply, holding my bellini. ‘But thanks.’
He sits down beside me and places his own drink on the table.
‘Did I see you at the beach yesterday?’ he asks in a strong Northern Irish accent.
He’s not bad-looking. Older than me but that doesn’t bother me.
What does bother me is the gold jewellery around his wrists, his neck and his earlobes.
I’m just not into gold chains resting above unbuttoned shirts or tight, chunky man bracelets I just know are getting caught on his abundant arm hair.
‘Yeah,’ I reply, my eyes now fixated on his earrings. Not just cool studs or little hoops, these are long, yellow-gold, diamond-encrusted monstrosities which swing violently every time he moves his head. ‘It was a beautiful beach. Sorry, I didn’t see you there.’
He smiles. ‘But I saw you. Black swimming costume, straw hat. You were talking to the old lady, then you had a wee dander down to the water. Your towel got caught on the sun lounger while you were swatting away that bee.’
I’m officially creeped out. ‘You were watching me?’
‘I watch everyone,’ he replies, like it’s no big deal. ‘It’s a public place.’
He stares at me like he’s trying to unlock face ID on his phone.
‘Yeah, I’m leaving. You’re a fucking danger, mate.’
I knock back my drink and head to the bar, where I let the bar staff know that Colm is a big creepy bastard, and can they please put him on whatever maritime register they have. Jesus, is there anyone else I need to report for misconduct tonight?
As I’m walking towards the lifts, I see Harper and Jess heading my way, looking like they’ve never had a stressful day in their lives.
‘So great to see you, Sophie!’ Jess squeals, throwing her arms around me, almost knocking me over.
‘Likewise,’ I reply, surprised by her reaction. No one has ever been that pleased to see me. I suspect she might be a little tipsy.
‘What are you up to?’ Harper asks.
‘I’ve just left the singles’ mixer,’ I reply. ‘Awful. It’ll definitely be my last. You both look lovely.’
‘We’re hitting the nightclub,’ Harper tells me with a little jiggle. ‘Wanna join?’
‘Me? You don’t want me tagging along,’ I reply. ‘Besides, I’m not exactly dressed for clubbing.’
Harper steps back and looks at my dress.
‘In that dress, sure you are,’ she replies. ‘Let’s go.’
She links arms with both Jess and me, pulling us towards the stairwell. I personally would have taken the lift from deck five to six, but I keep that fact to myself.
‘Are you ready to party!’ Harper asks. I don’t know if this is a genuine question or just one of those statements that DJs make where the only correct response is cheering before the beat drops.
‘Yeah,’ I reply. ‘Let’s do this.’