Chapter 8
8
I’m never sure how I feel about airports. I love them, in theory. If they were just a fun place to hang out, like a trendy bar with a choice of restaurants, shops, and fantastic people-watching opportunities, then I would be all for it. I’d be here every day.
When you’re travelling, however, you have that mixture of excitement and stress, both feelings amplifying the other, making everything feel all the more chaotic. I just need to focus on why we’re here, we’re going on holiday – I haven’t been on holiday forever, so it’s much needed. Then again, perhaps that’s why I feel like I’m under so much pressure, because this is my first holiday in a while, and most likely my last for a while, so I really, really want it to go well. I just need to try to relax.
The airport bar is positively popping off, the kind of buzzing energy you only get from a bunch of excited holiday-goers drinking overpriced cocktails before noon.
I look over at Lou, who’s scrolling her phone with one hand, and clutching her cocktail with the other – in a way that suggests she thinks someone might be about to take it from her. I think she’s suffering from nervous excitement too, although granted she’s got a lot more riding on this week.
Nita is at the bar, sweet-talking the barman to try to get an extra cherry in her Sweet Thing (not a euphemism, that’s the name of the cocktail she’s drinking, although I wouldn’t put it past her if we had time). Then there is Willow, who it turns out doesn’t really like flying, so she’s knocking back her cocktail a little too keenly.
‘I really don’t know how she does it,’ I whisper to Lou, nodding towards Nita, who is now laughing like she’s known the bartender for years.
‘It’s her superpower,’ Lou tells me. ‘You could learn a thing or two from her.’
‘I generally view Nita’s actions as a “what not to do” kind of thing,’ I reply. ‘Because if I tried to do what she’s doing, honestly, it would be a disaster.’
‘You never know when you might need to flirt your way out of a situation,’ she teases – hard to imagine such a scenario.
‘Well, should that ever come up, I guess I’ll just have to take my chances,’ I reply.
I relax back into my seat, raising my glass to take a sip, when the door swings open, and chaos follows. A group of lads – five of them, loud and clearly already several drinks in by the looks and sounds of it – stumble in.
‘Come on, let’s squeeze a few more pints in,’ one of them bellows, his arms up by his sides confidently, like he’s leading his men into war.
‘Oh, God,’ I say quietly to myself.
‘Hello, boys,’ Nita says, spinning around on her bar stool to greet them.
‘Hello, ladies,’ their ringleader says. He walks over to Nina with a genuine swagger. He picks her ticket up from the bar, looks at it, and then gently taps her on the nose with it. ‘Looks like we’re all getting on the same flight, Nita. Fancy a drink together?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ she says. ‘But only if you get one for my friends too.’
‘Then let’s merge our groups,’ he suggests. ‘It’ll be more fun as a free-for-all.’
Oh, God, it really, really won’t. But before I can say a word, the gang takes a seat at our table, with Nita swiftly joining them.
‘Going to Spain for a holiday?’ another lad asks Lou.
‘We’re off to a wedding,’ Lou says, ever the polite one, although I notice she doesn’t put her phone down.
‘A wedding, eh? Great places to pull,’ he tells her, nudging the guy next to him. ‘We’re off on an all-inclusive lads’ holiday. Sun, sea, and, well… it’s a great place to pull too. Reckon you’ll get lucky?’
‘I’d hope so,’ Lou tells him. ‘It’s my wedding.’
‘Can we get you ladies a drink?’ another one pipes up, changing the subject.
‘I thought you’d never ask,’ Nita says, tilting her head and flashing a smile.
‘What would you like?’ he asks.
‘Surprise us,’ she says flirtatiously.
‘Four mojitos for the ladies,’ he calls out to the barman. ‘And five pints for us.’
I can’t help but sigh audibly, but I know Nita is already planning how to make this trip start with a bang. I, on the other hand, am trying to work out how we can ditch them.
The boys introduce themselves in a flurry of overlapping chatter. There’s Ian, the boyishly charming one; Benny, the loud leader of the pack; Si, the one with the kind eyes who’s already blushing at something Nita said; Kev, the one who looks like he’s had a ten-pint head start and Johnny, who’s got the kind of smirk that makes me think he might be trouble.
‘So, what’s the wedding situation?’ Ian asks, leaning towards Lou. ‘Big party? Fancy venue? Have you had your hen do yet?’
‘We’re having it this week, at a villa,’ Lou replies, clearly trying to keep her answers short and uninviting. ‘Then, yeah, wedding at a big venue.’
‘A villa!’ Sam exclaims. ‘Nice. Sounds great for a big house party.’
I swear, if Nita invites them for a party…
‘It’s private,’ I add quickly, hoping to steer the conversation away from any ideas of gate-crashing. ‘And quiet. And the deposit is huge, so…’
‘Maybe we can sit together, if we’re on the same flight,’ Benny says suddenly, glancing at Nita.
‘Yeah, let’s have a laugh,’ Johnny says. ‘It’ll make the flight go much faster.’
Will it though?
‘Okay, sounds good, we can all sit together,’ Nita answers enthusiastically on our behalf.
‘Lads, help me grab the drinks,’ Benny says, gesturing for his mates to help him carry all the glasses over.
I just blink at Nita for a moment.
‘Why are we sitting with them?’ I ask her.
‘Because it’ll be fun,’ she says, as if that explains anything. ‘And they’re fit.’
‘They’re loud,’ I add. ‘Lou?’
‘I don’t mind,’ she says with a shrug. ‘It could be fun.’
‘I guess they are fit,’ Willow adds.
Oh, God, I’m alone in this one. Looks like I’m outvoted.
As they join us again, with the drinks, I find myself wedged between Johnny and Si and, genuinely, it’s hard to tell which one of them is the loudest. All I know is I get a ringing noise in my ear whenever one of them speaks.
‘Oi, mate, can we get some shots?’ Benny calls out to the barman. ‘Let’s really get this party started, and let the good times roll with our new lady friends.’
I cringe and sink deeper into my seat.
‘Nervous flyer?’ Johnny asks me.
‘Nervous sitter,’ I tell him.
He laughs like I’ve just said the funniest thing he’s ever heard, then immediately launches into a story about the time he fell off a chair after too many J?gerbombs.
‘I think I might go stretch my legs,’ I tell him. ‘Before the flight.’
I don’t get to stroll around for long before it’s time for us to board and, would you believe it, we are all getting to sit together. Once we’re up in the air, it really does feel like there’s no escaping them.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, the captain has turned off the seatbelt sign,’ comes the announcement overhead.
‘Right, now the real fun begins!’ Benny shouts, leaping out of his seat like this is one of those zero-gravity flights.
‘Sit down!’ one of the flight attendants snaps.
He ignores her, of course, as he attempts to rummage around in the overhead storage, obviously looking for something in his bag. God knows what, but I can’t imagine anything good that it could be.
A moment later, he pulls out maracas.
‘Oh, no,’ I say softly.
‘Oh, yes!’ Nita yells, egging him on.
He barely shakes them before the flight attendants descend on him, threatening to confiscate them if he doesn’t keep quiet.
‘Let them take them,’ he tells us once she’s gone. ‘I’ve got castanets too.’
Of course he does.
I can’t help but notice that Willow and Si are arguing about chemtrails and turbulence and potential government conspiracies.
‘Turbulence is the result of air currents,’ she says, glaring at him like he’s an idiot. ‘Nothing more. You’re actually unhinged.’
‘Yeah, okay, of course it is,’ Si replies sarcastically. ‘And the moon landing wasn’t filmed in a movie studio.’
I close my eyes, count to ten, and take deep breaths in then out. In then out. This is temporary. A couple more hours, and then it’s just us girls, sunshine, and cocktails. Pure relaxation. Absolutely no boys allowed.
‘Cheer up, Molly,’ Johnny says, clocking the look on my face. ‘You’re on holiday! You need to let your face know.’
‘I’m smiling on the inside,’ I assure him seriously.
‘Could’ve fooled me,’ he says with a wink.
This is just a temporary blip, a speedbump on the way to paradise. I just need to remind myself that soon enough we’ll be in the peaceful cocoon of the villa, in a boy-free zone, and I can finally let my hair down.
That is if the plane isn’t forced to touch down somewhere in France, so that Benny can have his maracas forcibly removed.