It’s Complicated
It’s Complicated
If there’s one thing in the world Flick didn’t like, it was surprises.
Some people love them. Flick was not one of those people.
Surprises made her deeply anxious. If the pressure to look pleased and happy and excited by this unexpected event wasn’t stressful enough, it was the sudden loss of control over the situation.
And as far as surprises go, having your boyfriend fly to Mallorca and show up at your hotel was one hell of a big one.
‘I can’t believe it. What are you doing here?’
It was a few minutes later and Flick was sitting in a booth with Rory, still staring at him in disbelief.
After brief introductions, Maggie had made her excuses and gone up to their room.
‘I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it,’ she’d smiled, disappearing to take a shower. And now it was just the two of them.
‘Well, that’s not the welcome I was expecting,’ he laughed.
‘But how did you know where I was?’
‘Call me Sherlock.’ Winking, he tapped his nose.
‘No, seriously.’
‘We share the same hotel booking account, babe.’
Of course.
‘And I had the weekend off, so I thought I’d fly out and surprise you.’
‘Well, you certainly did that.’ She forced a bright smile, while trying to hide the complicated feelings inside her. There were many things she was feeling right now, but one of them definitely wasn’t lovebirds.
‘Good one, huh?’
‘Brilliant.’
They were interrupted by a waiter who came to take their drinks order.
Rory ordered another beer. He was in shorts and T-shirt, thrilled to be in Spain.
He’d got there earlier and was red from sitting in the sun.
Flick realized she felt irritated by his surprise appearance.
Also, she felt like a completely different person since she last saw him.
Was it only a week? She’d changed so much and seen so much. She’d even hiked a volcano.
‘And a vodka tonic for the lady.’
‘Actually, can I have a negroni?’
Rory frowned. ‘What’s got into you? You always have a vodka tonic.’
‘I don’t know, I just fancied a change.’ Flick shrugged. ‘Have you had one? They’re delicious.’
‘What’s in them?’
‘Um . . . gin and Campari, I think, and something else. I can’t remember.’
Rory wrinkled his nose. ‘I’ll stick to beer.’
‘You can try mine if you like, see if you like it.’
‘No, thanks. I’m not into fancy cocktails.’
‘It’s not a fancy cocktail, everyone was drinking them in Italy.’
As soon as she mentioned Italy, Flick knew she shouldn’t have. Rory’s face clouded.
‘Well, you won’t be drinking those when you’re back home.’
‘Oh, I don’t know, I’ll have to get Colin to serve them at the pub,’ she teased, but Rory didn’t laugh.
‘I missed you.’
‘I’ve only been gone a week.’
‘Didn’t you miss me?’
‘Of course.’
She was lying. She hadn’t missed Rory at all.
‘Come here, you.’
Draping his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her in close for a kiss.
Flick tried to relax, but he was being all weird and insecure.
Flying out here, surprising her like this.
What had got into him? Rory hadn’t been like this when he’d gone off with the lads to Germany last month to watch the UEFA Champions League.
A whole week in Munich and she barely heard a peep from him, other than a couple of thumbs-up emojis whenever she’d texted to see how it was going.
Or the time he’d gone camping in Scotland for Callum’s stag weekend – which from her memory, was a very long weekend – and he’d gone off-grid.
Which she suspected was another word for whisky-tasting.
‘Nice place this.’ Rory looked around at the hotel bar. ‘Can’t believe The Local Echo stretched to this! How does it work then, do you just put in your expenses at the end?’
‘Um, yes.’
‘Must be doing better than we thought, old Seymour.’
‘Hmm.’
‘Charges an arm and a leg for the classifieds. Remember when our kid got married?’
Our kid being Rory’s brother. Flick nodded vaguely.
‘So—’
‘So—’
‘What shall we do this weekend?’
‘Well, to be honest, I’m supposed to be working.’
‘Oh, c’mon, I’ve flown all this way to see you! Can’t you take a day off? What’s so important about this story anyway? What’s the big secret?’
Flick felt herself clam up. She didn’t want to tell Rory.
He always trivialized her job on the paper.
‘It’s not like you’re saving lives,’ he’d retort, if ever she got stressed about work.
And while she knew he was just saying that to make her feel better – ‘I’m just trying to put things in perspective, babe’ – she couldn’t help wondering whose perspective exactly, because it only made her feel worse.
In fact, just the fact he’d shown up, expecting her to drop everything to make time for him, was indicative of his attitude towards her career.
‘Oh, it’s nothing.’
‘Can’t be nothing. Not if it’s top secret and they’ve got you out here,’ he continued. ‘I thought the local paper was supposed to be about local news, anyhow?’
Rory frowned and swigged his beer, his forehead creasing. It was the colour of beetroot. That was going to be painful tomorrow, thought Flick absently.
‘Don’t tell me, it’s drugs.’
‘What?’ She snapped back.
‘It’s a drugs ring. All that weed they’re selling down by the canal. It’s coming from out here, isn’t it? Is that why they’ve got you gallivanting across Europe? Chasing the source?’
Rory broke off, shaking his head; the effect of his second beer, his true-crime podcast and too much sun were beginning to fuel his imagination.
‘Bloody hell, Flick, you be careful.’
‘Don’t be silly.’
‘Haven’t you seen Narcos?’
‘Rory, please, it’s not a drugs ring.’ Flick felt a stab of guilt.
She felt bad lying to Rory. ‘And I think a Colombian cartel is slightly different to the teenagers from the local comp smoking spliffs by the canal,’ she teased, trying to diffuse the situation.
‘You’ve been listening to too many of those true-crime podcasts. ’
But Rory looked put out. ‘It’s not funny, you know.’
‘I’m sorry, you’re right.’ Flick felt suitably chastised. Rory had a habit of always making her feel like she’d said the wrong thing.
‘Honestly, I don’t know what’s got into you, Flick. Ever since you lost your mum . . .’
At the mention of her mum, Flick felt herself brace.
‘I’m worried about you.’ Rory softened, leaning forward and rubbing her arm.
And now she was actually feeling a bit terrible.
None of this was Rory’s fault. She was being totally selfish.
He didn’t know her and Maggie had all these plans for tomorrow, and now they were ruined.
He’d flown out to see her, because he missed her and was worried about her.
So many of her friends at uni had been in shitty relationships with bad boyfriends who didn’t seem to care, but she was lucky.
Rory had always been there for her. Ever since she was sixteen.
She should be grateful that he cared, that he wanted to see her.
Control her.
A little voice in her head. She brushed it aside swiftly.
‘Why don’t we get something to eat?’ she said brightly, changing the subject. ‘There’s supposed to be some lovely restaurants down by the port.’
‘What about your work colleague?’
For a moment she wondered who he was talking about, before realizing.
‘Oh, I’m sure Maggie will be fine. She’ll probably be pleased to get a night off from me.’ She forced a laugh.
‘I feel like I’ve seen her before.’ Draining his beer, Rory looked thoughtful.
‘You might have, she’s living just outside town. That’s how we met. We’re working on a story together,’ she added quickly, before he could ask where exactly she lived.
‘Investigative journalism, eh?’ Rory spoke slowly, enunciating every syllable, then laughed as if this was the funniest thing ever. ‘Sorry, I’m not taking the mick, I’m just teasing.’ He leaned in and gave her a kiss. ‘To be honest, I’m just relieved you’re not with another bloke.’
‘Rory,’ she protested, irritated again.
‘Well, when I saw that honeymoon suite, what did you expect me to think?’
Flick shook her head. Honestly, those bloody swan-shaped towels had a lot to answer for.
‘Made me realize a few things.’
‘Well, I’m not with another bloke, am I? I’m with you,’ she said briskly, determined to get off this subject. ‘So, what do you fancy doing?’
‘You.’
‘Are you drunk?’
‘On two beers?’ he protested, looking affronted, but his squiffyness betrayed the several more he’d drunk in the airport and on the plane.
‘I might go take a shower, get changed.’ It was all too much. Flick needed a few minutes by herself to decompress.
‘I got us another room,’ he winked. ‘Bit pricey, but we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’
‘It’s only been a week.’
‘A week’s a long time in the life of Rory Armstrong.’
Flick hated it when he spoke about himself in the third person. She stood up.
‘I’ll wait for you down here in the bar. I’ve already had a shower and got changed before you arrived. Wanted to look my best for you,’ he winked, pulling the room key from out of his shorts and passing it to her.
‘Thanks.’ She gave him a quick peck on the lips.
‘Don’t be long, I want to hit the town, it’s Friday night,’ he said, as she began walking away. ‘And, hey, babe?’
Flick turned. Rory was sitting in the booth, a drunken smile on his face.
‘Good surprise, eh?’
She forced a smile. ‘Yeah, good surprise.’
Are you here?
Yes.
Great.
So where do you want to meet?
Meet me at Bar Tio.
It’s on the corner, by the port.
What time?
How about 5 p.m.? Is that OK?
Maggie hesitated. Was she really going to go through with this?
Yes, it’s fine.
Be good to see you, Mags.
You too, Theo.