Chapter 23
23
A n hour later, Fleur was standing at the podium of a small training room with one of the staff from the hotel—a roly-poly woman, whose hair looked as if it had a life of its own, who was trying to work out what was wrong with the connection between the screen and Cassy’s laptop. As she stopped herself from sighing and shaking her head, she realised she was going to have to deliver the training session without the aid of her slides, which made the whole thing a whole lot harder. Not that she hadn’t been there before; she had, a few times over the years. It wasn’t that bad as long as Cassy was there to back her up, which, of course, she was. It was just irritating how so many facilities bragged about what they could provide and many times the actual places themselves didn’t match what was on offer.
As she stood there watching the woman, who clearly had no idea what she was doing, fiddle with the cables, Cassy came in through the double doors at the back with another man from the hotel. The tall, skinny man in drainpipe trousers and a grubby shirt looked harassed, and Fleur watched in bemusement as if observing some kind of strange, not-very-funny play, as the man, who looked as if he needed a good wash, tried to mess with one of the wires. He said it was probably something to do with the Wi-Fi and that an extra cable would help. All Fleur could think about as she stood there observing was the fact that she was going to ask Patrick to make things more permanent. Wedding bells pealed in her ears. White veils flapped in the wind.
Precisely nine hours later, Fleur was sitting in the same hotel, but this time in the bar—a grotty-looking affair that appeared not to have had a lick of paint since the 90s, and where someone in their wisdom had designed an entire wall of tinted grey windows looking out onto an industrial estate, the only view being piles of shipping containers. Fleur grimaced as she took a sip of the packet-mix made margarita in her hand cobbled together by someone without a clue. Nodding as she listened to Cassy telling her about her middle son’s birthday list, which included a video game that was far too old for him, she could barely concentrate on what Cassy was saying and was biding her time until the opportunity arose to fill Cassy in on her plan.
She’d waited until they were a couple of drinks in, had thoroughly debriefed about the day, and had spent a significant amount of time decompressing about how the session had gone before gearing up to mention what was really on her mind. She waited for Cassy to finish going on about her middle son’s birthday and smiled as she took a sip of her drink.
Cassy frowned. ‘What’s that look? I haven’t seen that look for a long time.’
Fleur started to giggle, the effects of the margaritas, although they were not particularly nice, they were potent, clearly taking effect. ‘I’ve been thinking about something...’
‘Oh wow, that sounds dangerous,’ Cassy giggled and took a huge sip of her drink, licking the salt off the edges of the glass and making a face. ‘God, this stuff is disgusting. Why are we drinking it?’
‘Ha, ha, yes, you’re right. Anyway, anyway?—’
‘Yep. What have you got to tell me? Let me guess. Hmm…’
Fleur pressed her lips together and shook her head. ‘No, no, you’ll never guess.’
‘What are you up to?’
‘So, what would you think about coming to Hawaii, to Maui, in fact?’
Cassy frowned. ‘What are you talking about? What on holiday? Yeah, right. Pigs might fly. What are you saying?’
‘I’m saying, do you think you would be able to get to Maui, with Patrick and I?’
Cassy blinked. ‘Fleur, you seem to have forgotten that I have three children and a husband.’
‘Yes, yes, I mean, you know, you could come with them or without them.’
‘Why would I want to come on holiday with you?’ Cassy shook her head. ‘This margarita is laced with something that is messing with your head.’
‘Well, because it’s not just going to be a holiday.’
Cassy side-eyed. ‘You’re not making any sense. You’re speaking in riddles.’
‘I’m going to ask Patrick to marry me. Or at least make things permanent with me. And the more I have thought about it, the more I’ve decided that I want to do it while we’re away.’
Cassy nearly fell off her stool, spilt her drink, and shook her head as she plonked herself back down again. She stared at Fleur, wide-eyed, shaking her head back and forth, not saying anything for a moment, blinking over and over again, and then she coughed. ‘I literally don’t know what to say. I’ve never been more floored or wrong-footed in my life. Where on earth has this come from? You are going to ask him to marry you! You? Like really? Wow!’
Fleur giggled and downed the rest of her margarita in one. ‘I don’t know. The other day, I had my notebooks out, then everything that’s happened with Lucy, and then I started thinking about Patrick, and the fact that we don’t live together, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. The more my mind went on, the more it tumbled further and further and further, and I thought, I’m going to ask him before it’s too late. I might be dead tomorrow…’ She held out her hand with her “forever ring” as Patrick had called it. ‘I want to do something more than this. I want to live with him. I just love him, Cass.’
Cassy shook her head in disbelief, still staring at Fleur as if she had grown a second head. ‘Right, well, this is mad, but I love it.’ She waved at the bartender and pointed to Fleur’s drink. ‘Another one?’
Fleur chuckled. ‘We shouldn’t, they’re awful.’
‘They are awful,’ Cassy grimaced. ‘Like a weird lime-flavoured cleaning product, however this conversation requires alcohol.’
The bartender, a bored-looking man in his late twenties with a crooked tie and the general air of someone who wanted to be anywhere but behind the bar, wandered over.
‘Two more margaritas, please,’ Cassy said, resting her elbow on the sticky bar.
The bartender barely nodded before shuffling away to assemble more of whatever packet mix monstrosity they were drinking.
‘So, you’re serious about this? Like, actually serious?’
‘I think so. I don’t know, Cass. I want something more than what we have now. I don’t want to just drift along and then suddenly look back and think, “Oh, I should have done something.”’
Cassy studied Fleur. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I get that but I am shocked. I didn’t see this coming.’
‘And it just feels right, you know?’ Fleur shrugged. ‘I don’t want some big, fancy thing, but I do want it to mean something. The more I think about it, the more I think I want to do it in Maui. I mean as settings go, it’s pretty up there and we’ve got the flights booked and hotel sorted. It just means I would need to get our nearest and dearest out too.’
The bartender returned, putting down two more margaritas that were the exact same radioactive green-yellow as the previous drinks. Fleur and Cassy exchanged a look before clinking their glasses together.
‘To whatever this is, cheers.’ Cassy took a sip and immediately winced. ‘Dear God, it’s worse this time.’
Fleur laughed. ‘I think he must have forgotten to put in the tequila. It just tastes like sugar-y toilet cleaner.’
‘Fitting, really for this place. Cheers.’ Cassy tapped her fingers against her glass. ‘So, I’m going to ignore the fact of how you’re actually going to ask Patrick to marry you and go straight to Hawaii, Maui.’
‘Maui, yep.’
‘Technically, we could come. I mean, in theory. But I don’t know if we’d have the money for flights, and I don’t know if we could get the boys looked after.’
Fleur nodded, stirring the sad, artificial-looking lime wedge in her drink with the end of her straw. ‘Yeah, I did think about that. I mean, you could bring them? Make a holiday out of it? Your mum could come to help with them?’
Cassy let out a short laugh. ‘The idea of taking my mother on a long-haul flight with my children is horrifying . She’d moan about everything. It’s a flat no from me.’
‘But she would do it?’
‘Oh, she’d do it. She loves an excuse to tell me how much she’s doing for me.’ Cassy pulled a face. ‘I’ll have a think. It would be amazing, but it just depends on logistics.’
Fleur nodded again. ‘I get it.’
‘And Wendy?’
‘She’s already mentioned maybe coming for the weekend. It’s not so far from there.’
‘And your mother?’ Cassy raised her eyebrows.
‘Yeah. Well. That’s the thing, isn’t it?’
Cassy cocked her head to the side. ‘Would you even want her there?’
‘I don’t know.’ Fleur traced the rim of her glass with her finger. ‘I wouldn’t have any choice, but I also think she’d make it all about her. She’s good at doing that. Very good.’
‘Oh, she definitely would. She’d tell everyone how she’d always wanted to get married in Maui but never got the chance and how marvellous it was that her daughter was finally doing something exciting with her life.’
Fleur groaned. ‘God, you’re right. You nailed it. She’d spend the whole time talking about Marvin and his deep, existential connection to the ocean breeze or some rubbish.’
Cassy cackled. ‘Shame if she couldn’t come.’
‘She’s still my mum, Cass.’
Cassy nodded and looked apologetic. ‘Sorry, I know.’
Fleur took another sip of her drink, ignoring how utterly awful it was. ‘It’s a lot to think about.’
‘Yeah, it is, but for what it’s worth, I love this for you.’
Fleur smiled. ‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah.’ Cassy raised her glass. ‘To you, making a completely uncharacteristic, impulsive, slightly chaotic decision and for me going along with it. I am so glad we’re friends.’
Fleur clinked her glass against Cassy’s again, grinning.
‘To me and you and a very cray-cray idea.’