Chapter Fourteen
Fourteen
Twenty minute was twenty minutes too long and by the time we arrived back at the port, there was nothing we could do but watch as Esmeralda slowly chugged away.
Heidi was easy to pick out on the top balcony, her hands on her hips, clearly seething.
I did an exaggerated shrug then waved with both hands, as she glared at me.
‘We can catch them up in Madeira,’ I said, with a big cheesy smile while Leo squinted at his phone.
‘Already on it,’ he said, speed-scrolling, then stopping to read. ‘Here we go. The ten o’clock flight tomorrow morning will have us back with them for lunch.’
Wow, so soon. We’d be back before they even missed us. ‘In plenty of time for more aqua aerobics.’
Leo frowned, then continued scrolling. ‘Or we could get the midday flight?’ he suggested, a smile on his lips.
‘Hmm…’ I nodded slowly, pretending to think. ‘Yes, that sounds better. It wouldn’t hurt to give everyone some alone time – some thinking of a great pitch time.’
‘Agreed. Send me your passport details then and I’ll book for both of us.’
He handed me his business card with Leo Kendrick etched on the front in metallic blue ink. Clearly a man used to people doing exactly as they’re told.
‘Thanks, but I can book my own flight. There’s no chance Brooke will let us claim this one.’
‘Don’t worry – I’ll cover it,’ he said, with a shrug.
I wasn’t enough of a big shot to write off the cost of a flight like that, but it didn’t feel cool to make a thing of it.
He stopped tapping and looked up. ‘I insist. It’s entirely my fault we’re in this situation. I should have kept an eye on the time.’
‘You were being a Good Samaritan. It shouldn’t cost you money on top.’
‘Honestly, it’s fine.’
‘OK, but if we win the pitch, I’m paying you back.’
‘And if you don’t?’
‘If we don’t, then it’ll be the least of my problems, and I’ll accept your generous gift with grace and gratitude.’
‘Deal.’
I shuddered at the thought of cobbling together an updated CV for whomever it may concern and trying to find another job.
Working for a new – likely worse – version of Heidi.
No, thanks. Losing this account was not an option.
I texted Leo my passport details, relieved I’d brought it with me.
He couldn’t scam me if he was paying, surely.
My photo was nearly nine years old and I barely recognised myself: thick black eyeliner and a long blonde plait over one shoulder, with messy wisps around my face.
Freckles and a fast-fading tan from a week in Devon.
I’d realised far too late into the summer holidays that my passport was out of date, so we’d postponed our sisters’ trip to Greece and gone to Torquay instead.
We didn’t need a passport for the English Riviera, and we’d stayed right on the seafront in The Torquay Grand, with a three-course breakfast every morning.
Orange juice, honeydew melon, a full English fry-up and toast and jam for dessert.
I’d renewed my passport while we were there and my eyes were full of smiles despite my straight face. The twins had grabbed my legs under the curtain as the final photo countdown had started and I’d been stuck with it.
‘I recognise that face,’ Leo said.
‘Yeah, that would have been the summer before we interned together. I haven’t changed that much have I?’
He stared at me as if to check. ‘Hmm, no. You’ve still got it.’
‘Erm… thanks. I think.’ I smoothed down my hair, feeling my face flush. ‘At least let me organise the hotel,’ I said, googling furiously. It was nearly four and we needed somewhere to stay.
‘Chris has already sorted it.’
‘Chris who?’
‘My assistant.’
‘Oh. OK, well that’s kind of him. Where are we staying?’
‘At the Harbour Club,’ Leo said, smoothly, pointing up at the five-star hotel set into the hills behind us. The infinity pool was built out over the rocks and glistened aquamarine as the sun shone through it.
‘Really?’ Good old Chris – whoever he was – I’d have booked us into a bargain BnB. My stomach bubbled with excitement, and I was double glad we were getting the later flight.
‘Yep. We deserve some luxury after sleeping in those broom cupboards for a week.’
A new cruise ship had arrived to replace the Esmeralda, and the harbour was back to heaving.
The tourists poured off and scattered, immersing themselves in the local vibe.
In and out of the shops and bars, keen to explore the island in the few hours they had.
I couldn’t wait to have a shower or bath – or both – in my five-star room.
‘I’m going to swing by the supermarket and pick up a few essentials. Want anything?’ Leo asked. I had a perfume miniature and a lipstick in my handbag and that was about it – I needed more than a few essentials. I needed clothes and knickers and… everything.
I remained relaxed and casual. ‘I’ll come too.’
There was something so shiny and clean about supermarkets on holiday.
Air conditioning, deli counters full of meats and cheeses, pyramids of perfect-looking potatoes, glossy tomatoes and huge green beans.
But I couldn’t wear a green bean for dinner.
I’d have to buy a new dress to throw on – this one was sweaty and muddy, and I couldn’t wait to take it off.
We headed for the toothbrushes and deodorants and bought a pink and blue of each.
His and hers. I hadn’t been supermarket shopping with a man for years and putting my cucumber-fresh Dove next to his Sure Maximum Strength for extra manly-men felt embarrassingly intimate.
I tried to laugh it off. ‘Do we need anything else, love? Kitchen roll? Fairy liquid? A new mop head?’
A woman ushered past with her toddler and Leo smiled. ‘I think we’re good.’
‘I could actually do with something to change into,’ I said, eyeing the clothes shop through the window.
‘Me too.’ Leo grinned. ‘I’ll sort this lot, and you go get whatever you need. Let’s meet in the hotel reception in an hour and check in?’
‘Done.’
What a treat. A whole hour to myself to mooch around the shops and meander about.
I just needed a cheapy cotton dress and some flip-flops and that’d be fine.
A bell tinkled as I walked into the one and only shop that sold clothes on the harbour front.
There were dozens of mannequins in the window wearing bikinis with tiny shorts and a luscious rack of long cotton dresses to flick through.
‘Olá!’ a fresh-faced teenager called, from behind the till.
‘Olá,’ I replied, scanning the dresses for something appropriate.
So many of them had pieces missing or were covered in sequins, or snake sized.
I whipped the hangers along faster and faster as the rejections piled up and I could feel myself starting to panic.
No, no, no, no. I had to find something to wear in this shop. Right now.
‘English?’ the young girl asked.
I nodded, holding up a bright orange minidress. No.
‘I can help you?’ she tried.
‘I need a dress,’ I said, pointing at my boobs and then my bum. ‘For dinner.’ I pretended to eat with a knife and fork. ‘Grandez. If… er… possible.’ I’d run out of Portuguese words, so English with a bad French accent would have to do.
She disappeared off out the back as I flicked from gaudy nightmare to gaudy nightmare.
There was a small selection of cotton dresses by the counter, but they looked like they were for children.
I held a gorgeous emerald dress up against me in the mirror, but it was strapless and only went down to my knee.
I hadn’t worn anything like that for years.
The girl came back with a rainbow of dresses over her arm. Peacock blue, pink, cherry red and white. Cotton-soft maxi dresses that looked like they might work. Surely one of them would do.
‘Oooh! Mucho obrigado!’ I said, taking them and shuffling over to the ‘changing area’ – a mirror and a circular curtain.
My muscles instantly relaxed as I kicked off my sweaty trainers and peeled off my dress, standing naked in the air con to cool down.
I wanted to throw them in the bin, but I folded them into a pile instead.
The blue dress was like a silk sheet on my skin, its plunge neckline and cap sleeves floating elegantly and landing in all the right places.
They say dresses are like men – you know instantly when it’s the one. When it’s a definite yes.
I pulled the curtain back to give myself more space and stood in front of the mirror.
‘Ahh! Is very nice,’ the girl said, with a smile, her brown eyes shining. ‘Is your colour.’
It ruffled around my cleavage and pulled me in at the waist, as if it was made for me. There was a slight whiff of chief bridesmaid, but I didn’t have much choice. ‘I’ll take it, please. And a pair of those flip-flops in a medium. Both to wear now.’
‘I have similar dress in red, here,’ she said, holding up the cherry, which was equally beautiful. ‘One is forty euro, both colours I do for sixty?’
‘Erm… OK, go on then,’ I said, wafting the material around like a flamenco dancer, then giving her a twirl. I loved it. ‘And can I have a bag for my… er… other clothes?’
Would it be crazy to buy it in all the colours? Yes. But the costume change had unlocked something in me. I felt cheekier and lighter – a more excited version of myself. Was it the dress? Or was it going commando?
The island was a glossy mix of blues and greens with picturesque views in every direction.
I walked through the main square swinging my shopping bags and as the breeze billowed through my new dress, that delicious holiday feeling hit me for the first time since we’d set sail.
No expectations and nothing to think about, other than enjoying a new place.
The square was teeming with people. Tiny bars served sundowners and snacks, while artists sketched portraits in charcoal and ink, and people meandered past, occasionally stopping to watch.
The spicy sizzle of peri peri chicken mingled with the sugary cinnamon of churros, making me hungry, and I couldn’t resist stopping for a quick glass of wine.
My phone pinged as I placed my order.
Heidi: What happened? Where are you staying? Have you booked a flight yet? When will you arrive? Keep me updated.
Completely hysterical as usual. Never one to underreact. I fired off a quick reply.
Me: Don’t worry, Heidi, I’m fine. Yes, Leo has booked us on the first flight to Madeira, so we’ll be there tomorrow. Wi-Fi is patchy but I’ll be in touch.
HIIT Girls Group Chat:
Sara: I’ve just been reading about your pitch, Kat – isn’t that Leo guy the one from Engelman?
Abi: Noooo? You’re not stuck on a boat with him are you?
Me: It is. I am. I know – can you believe it? He’s actually not that bad so far
Me: And he looks pretty good in his trunks
I watched the world go by for half an hour with a cold glass of Vinho Verde and a handful of stuffed olives and emptied my mind completely.
The bar was in the corner of the square and shaded by a beautiful old church, with crumbling stone walls and a clock tower.
When the chime sounded for quarter to five, I popped in to light a candle, then made my way to the Harbour Club.
I could happily have stayed here for a week, a month, even; I just needed propping up on a sunbed with a stack of books and to throw my phone in the sea.