61
The sprawling resort we’re staying at in Vietnam is beautiful, and even our messy new roommate can’t detract from how gorgeous our room is.
From the air, you wouldn’t know it existed. It’s designed to have an unobtrusive architectural footprint, blending traditional Vietnamese village elements with striking contemporary minimalism.
I absolutely adore it, even though it’s like nothing I’ve ever stayed in before.
“Double king beds each,” Thorun laughs, collapsing onto one featuring stark white bed linen and a pink silk throw with matching pillows.
“It’s magical, it’s so beautiful, a paradise built for romance,” Valérie sighs. “I’m so lucky I’m going to have the first date with him here. I should have trusted he’d choose something wonderful for me.”
“About time we had decent accommodation,” I quip, dumping my suitcase onto the bed closest to the back wall, its dark burgundy silk throw just happening to be one of my favourite colours. “I did not like those Australian tents. The flies, the heat, the tiny crabs and lizards scuttling around…”
“I loved those crabs,” Thorun laughs.
Sona walks back from outside where she’d been inspecting our private pool — every room is virtually its own hotel complex, complete with kitchen and entertainment suite.
“Can you even?” She asks, eyes wide.
“I know,” Thorun laughs, “go look at the bathroom. It’s an entire enclosed garden!”
“It seems the fewer there are of us, the more luxurious our apartments will be,” I murmur, sticking my head into the bathroom and silently agreeing with Thorun that it was awesome.
“I’ve lived in some fancy places,” Sona sighs, “but this takes the cake. Evelyn would have died and gone to heaven here. I mean, oh, you know what I mean.”
I give her a hard stare, and she at least has the grace to blush.
“Of course they need to get us ready for when we become royalty,” Valérie frowns, shaking her head at Sona before turning to tip all of her clothes out onto her bed, “it stands to reason. I expect the castle I move into will be ten times better than this. The French know style.”
I let her comment slide past me. It’s too late in the afternoon to be arguing right now, and I don’t want to destroy her happiness about her date with him tonight.
After all, tomorrow night it all starts again and we’re sure to receive a date or challenge card.
If previous seasons can be counted upon at all, the baby challenge will come up soon.
I’d actually expected to be forced to take part in some horror challenge while we were still in Australia involving babies, spiders, sharks or fuck only knew what else.
But apparently the producers thought they might take it easy on us there because many of us still needed a bit of recovery from Seville, either emotionally or physically.
That’s why they’d only selected half a dozen for the challenge that Valérie won.
I can’t imagine she’ll be so lucky in the next one.
I’m quite certain Vietnam is going to be a whole other ball game.
I can only hope that tomorrow night it’s just a group date.
Although I’ve been medically cleared for a challenge, my skin has only just knitted on my side and it’s still red and puffy. I’m definitely not at my peak.
“Anyone up for a swim?” Valérie asks, holding up her pink crochet bikini and pointing outside.
It’s beautiful out there, and since it’s only the four of us I’ll probably utilise the pool, provided the cameras aren’t around. But right now I think it’s prudent to rest.
“I’m going to take a shower,” I shake my head.
I catch Thorun looking at herself in the mirror and shaking her head in despair.
“Thorun, your short hair suits you,” I murmur, “don’t stress about it.”
“Yes, it’s a pixie cut, of sorts,” Sona adds, “and you can’t even notice the patch of scalp missing.”
Thorun groans as Sona goes on.
“You’re alive, that’s all that really matters.”
I snigger but don’t say anything. I hadn’t told Thorun that Sona was aware of the plan to murder her. She’s happier thinking she has friends here. I hadn’t even spoken to her much on the flight over, preferring to sleep.
Thorun turns and smiles.
“You’re right, Sona. I have a lot to be grateful for — and I haven’t had the chance to thank you, Cat.”
Before I can stop her she bounds forward and embraces me.
I stand stiffly in her arms and allow her to whisper her thank you over again.
“What did she say to you, Thorun?” I eventually ask when it’s clear she’s not going to let me go.
She stiffens a little before answering.
“Evelyn said, ‘Mom?’ Then she sighed, ‘fuck.’ And then she was gone.”
“Famous last words,” I grunt, squirming out of her embrace and heading for the shower.
“You’re a good friend, Cat,” she murmurs as I leave.
I shake my head and don’t turn around as I answer.
“You saved me. I saved you. We’re even.”
“You’ll admit it one day,” she laughs quietly.
A loud knock on the door stalls my steps, and we all turn as a Zurich twin stalks in, throws an envelope onto the floor, spins on her heels and stalks out.
“What the? How rude!” Valérie frowns, moving to pick it up immediately.
It bears the bachelor’s handwriting on the front, and we all stand frozen while we wait for her to read out whatever the envelope contains.
“Ugh, it’s cursive, I can’t.”
She hands the note to Sona, who scans it quickly before reading out loud.
‘Ladies, tomorrow night we are having a ball.
Catriona,
Would you do me the honour of the first dance?
Jaguar’
I gasp and bite my lip as the others stare at me.
‘Why? Why continue to put a fucking target on me like this? Does he want me dead?’
“A ball! Thorun squeaks. “I’ve never been to a ball. Oooh, do you think it’ll be a masked ball?”
“I guess I should be thankful we aren’t having another contest straight away,” I grumble.
“Masks? I do love a mask,” Sona grins. “You know I once knew a man who would only have sex if I wore a particular mask that made me look like a particular woman.”
“Who was it?” Thorun asks before I can stop her. “Someone famous?”
“His mother.”
“Ugh!” I shake my head at her in disgust.
Meanwhile, Valérie looks up from the letter and stares at me accusingly.
“He lets you call him Jaguar?” she whines. “How long has he let you call him that? Why hasn’t he let me call him that? Why is he toying with my emotions like this? Why, oh why doesn’t he just…”
I turn, shaking my head, and walk into the bathroom.
Her whining and subsequent hysterical sobbing continue for some time, audible even above the sound of the extraction fan and the water.
At least it’s distracting enough to stop me from over-analysing the bachelor’s dance request from every angle.