Chapter 6
‘So,’ I tell Rosie and Priya over a hastily arranged glass of wine after work. ‘I might be popping over to Jamaica for ten days next month.’
Rosie almost drops her glass in surprise. ‘What?’
It doesn’t take me long to explain Lily’s predicament and Sonya’s suggested solution.
‘And your boss is OK with this?’ Priya asks.
‘It’s not ideal for him, obviously, because he’ll be short of two members of the team, but February is usually fairly quiet, and I think he’d rather be short staffed than put up with Lily’s misery.’
‘Wow. I’m jealous,’ Rosie says. ‘It’s kind of impulsive though, even for you.’
I smile at her. ‘In the interests of full disclosure, I haven’t signed on the dotted line yet. I’ve registered my interest, subject to one condition.’
‘You’re going on holiday, not buying shares,’ Priya interjects. ‘What’s the condition?’
‘I told her I needed to meet Fliss. If we’re going to share a room, I need to know that we’re going to get on. This holiday may be a bargain for the Caribbean, but it’ll turn out to be a false economy if she’s vile and I’m stuck with her for the duration.’
‘That sounds extremely sensible,’ Priya agrees. ‘Is Lily going to set it up?’
‘It turns out Fliss has moved back to her parents’ house in the West Country, so a face-to-face isn’t going to be possible in the timeframe.
However, Lily got her number from Amy, we’ve exchanged a couple of texts and we’re going to have a call later.
According to Lily, she’s just as anxious as me, although she did say that even sharing a room with Genghis Khan would be preferable to Robert.
I think we can assume there isn’t any love lost there. ’
‘Ouch. I wonder what happened?’ Rosie asks.
‘She probably caught him sticking his cock where it had no business being,’ Priya observes. ‘That’s the usual one, isn’t it?’
‘It might have been her,’ Rosie counters. ‘I was reading an article in the hairdressers the other day which said that there’s basically no difference in infidelity rates between men and women, but men are more likely to be repeat offenders.’
‘That makes sense,’ Priya says. ‘Men have a greater appetite for risk, on the whole.’
‘Do you think Martin would cheat?’ I ask her.
‘Unlikely,’ she tells me with a smile. ‘There’s risky and then there’s suicidally risky. Martin knows that he’d be unlikely to survive if he cheated on me. Anyway, why would he want to? I’m basically a goddess of sex.’
Rosie giggles. ‘Your parents must be so proud.’
‘Funnily enough, it’s not something I discuss with them, although they’re pretty liberal compared to many of their peers. My aunties practically had a collective seizure when Mum told them she and Dad had given their blessing for Martin and me to move in together.’
‘But Martin’s lovely!’ Rosie exclaims.
‘He is, but moving in together is basically like hanging out a banner advertising that you’re having sex, and having sex with someone before you’re married is severely frowned on by some of the more traditional members of the family.
Auntie Bhumi still isn’t speaking to me, which is more than a little ironic, considering what her daughter is up to. ’
‘Go on.’ Rosie’s eyes are wide.
Priya leans forward conspiratorially, prompting us to follow suit.
‘So, Auntie Bhumi spends her life banging on about how well her eldest, Aaisha, is doing. “My daughter, the pharmacist,” she keeps telling Mum, as if Aaisha were a sodding rocket scientist or something. What she hasn’t twigged is that a pharmacist’s salary wouldn’t come close to funding Aaisha’s swanky flat, BMW, Rolex watch and so on.
They’re actually all paid for out of the proceeds of her OnlyFans site.
She may be a pharmacist who looks like butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth during the day, but come the evening, Aaisha’s making a killing from waving her hoo-ha around on the internet.
In comparison to that, me moving in with the guy I love is pretty mild, right? ’
‘That’s so unfair. Why don’t you say anything?’ I ask.
‘Because I actually really like Aaisha. I mean, I wouldn’t make those choices, but I certainly don’t condemn her for them.
Also, if Bhumi found out the truth, she’d probably have a heart attack and I don’t want her death on my conscience.
’ She leans back again, indicating that she’s said enough on the subject.
‘Anyway, let’s get back to you and your upcoming interview.
What questions are you going to ask Fliss? ’
‘I think interview might be overstating it,’ I reply. ‘I just wanted the opportunity to meet Fliss and see whether she’s the kind of person I think I’d get along with.’
‘You’re totally interviewing her,’ Priya says. ‘You won’t be able to help yourself. So, come on. What are you going to ask?’
I consider the question for a moment. ‘I don’t think there is anything specific, actually.
You can’t really ask someone you’ve never met before whether they fart in bed, or whether they hog the duvet.
I guess it’s more about getting a feel for the kind of person she is and whether we’re compatible. ’
‘You aren’t marrying her,’ Rosie remarks.
‘No, but it’s quite an intimate setting, isn’t it?
I mean, we don’t think twice about getting changed in front of each other or sleeping in the same bed, do we, but that’s because we’ve known each other forever.
But if I’m going to do those things with this Fliss person, I need to know she won’t be judging me for having cellulite, or stealing my tampons, or whatever. ’
‘Those are questions I’d love to hear you ask.
’ Priya roars with laughter before mimicking my voice.
‘“So, Fliss. We’ve established that you don’t believe yourself to be nocturnally flatulent, which is definitely in your favour, but do you exhibit any symptoms of kleptomania where intimate female products are concerned?
No? Great. Let’s move on to your views on cellulite, stretch marks and other bodily imperfections.
Would you consider yourself to be fairly relaxed about such things, or do they give you the ick?
How would you rate your own body in those areas? ”’
‘I’m definitely not asking that,’ I tell her when we’ve finished laughing.
‘She might want to interview you,’ Rosie remarks after a few moments. ‘Have you thought about that? What happens if you really like her, but she doesn’t think you’re up to the mark?’
‘I hadn’t considered that,’ I admit.
‘OK. What are your most antisocial habits?’
‘I don’t think I’ve got any, have I?’
There’s an uncomfortable silence. Rosie and Priya are looking at each other and my skin is starting to prickle uncomfortably.
‘You tell her,’ Priya says.
‘I can’t. You do it,’ Rosie replies.
‘What?’ I’m now in full-on paranoia mode. ‘Tell me.’
To my surprise, they both burst out laughing again. ‘You’re fine,’ Priya assures me. ‘We were just winding you up.’
‘Apart from your terrible taste in boyfriends, anyway,’ Rosie adds.
‘I wish I could say you were wrong,’ I tell her, joining in with their laughter.
‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ I tell Rosie later that night. ‘Fliss is absolutely lovely and we got on like a house on fire.’
‘Oh, great. So does that mean you’re going?’
‘It does. I’ve just texted Lily to let her know.’
‘What happens now?’
‘I guess Robert has to call the holiday company and get his booking changed into my name. Once I receive the confirmation from them, I’ll send him the money.’
‘Did you find out any more about the breakup?’
‘No. Fliss only mentioned his name once, but the way she said it left me in no doubt that she absolutely hates his guts. It must be something bad though, because she comes across as very chilled generally.’
Rosie gets up from the sofa and comes over to envelop me in a hug. ‘I’m so pleased for you,’ she says. ‘You’re going to have a blast. You don’t think Fliss would sell me her place, do you?’
‘Although it would be lovely to be there with you, I think Fliss is pretty determined to go,’ I tell her.
‘I’m teasing. There is one thing you have to take both Priya and me along to though.’
‘Which is?’
‘Shopping for your holiday wardrobe.’
‘Nuh-uh. This is costing enough as it is. I’ve already got summer clothes. I don’t need a new wardrobe.’
‘Are you sure?’ Rosie asks dubiously. ‘You want to be looking your best in case there’s a billionaire oil tycoon there.’
‘Why would he be there?’
‘You should always be prepared for the possibility of a billionaire oil tycoon,’ she says, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
‘Does he have to be an oil tycoon?’ I ask. ‘It’s not a great look when we’re all talking about climate change.’
‘Fine. He’s a billionaire eco-warrior guy.’
‘Nope. Don’t like the sound of him much either. I prefer my steak medium, without a side order of guilt trip.’
‘Stick with the oil guy then. He’s rich, but troubled by the source of his wealth, so he’s incredibly philanthropic. That’s attractive, right?’
‘Go on.’ I recognise this now as another of the games we often play, dreaming up imaginary men for the other to date, so I’m familiar with the way it goes.
‘He’s also lonely. He’s got plenty of women in his little black book, but he knows they’re more attracted to his money than him.
He’s looking for the one but, so far, without any luck.
There he is, eating his steak dinner at your hotel, where he’s come for a rest from the stress of his work, and his gaze falls on you. ’
‘Cue swelling strings, thumping hearts, wildly exaggerated pupil dilation and a perfectly choreographed sex scene?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘That does sound very nice, but I think the Elixir Spa Hotel is probably the equivalent of a youth hostel if you’re a billionaire. He’d be more likely to rent out Necker Island, I reckon.’
‘You’re right,’ she admits. ‘Bugger.’
‘It was a good try.’
When I go to bed that night, I take some time to study the photos of the Elixir Spa Hotel on my phone before turning out the light.
It does look amazing, and I can’t believe that I’ll be there in under two weeks.
Now that I’ve met Fliss, online at least, I don’t have any concerns about sharing a room with her, and I’m really looking forward to this holiday.