Honeymoon for One

by MacIntosh, Portia

‘Hold on tight,’ he says. ‘I’ll pull your dress down.’

  ‘Can you do that?’ I ask. ‘Without dropping me?’

  I look around at the other couples. Some of them are really struggling already.

  ‘Are you worried about me dropping you or us losing the competition?’ he replies with a knowing smile.

  ‘Is it okay if it’s both?’

  When Freddie smiles his dimples deepen and his eyes twinkle. Wrapped around his body like this, with him holding me so tightly, we couldn’t be closer if we tried. There’s an awkwardness that comes with being so in someone’s face. We’re not usually forced to look each other in the eye – with near-constant eye contact – from nothing more than a couple of inches away. This discomfort doesn’t just come from being in such intimate proximity though – the sweltering evening heat isn’t helping. Where my arms are touching each other they are slick with sweat, which is making it harder for me to hold out. Thankfully Freddie has this covered and with one swift arm movement my modesty (as if I even have any at this point) is restored.

  As other couples’ arms grow tired and patience wears thin, the competition begins to slowly fall away.

  ‘How long do you think it’s been?’ I ask Freddie.

  I feel obliged to keep talking to him, as if it might make this a bit less awkward if we behave like civil colleagues who share an office.

  ‘Why don’t you check your watch?’ Daniel asks Freddie.

  Daniel and Eva are still in, but Daniel can’t even begin to hide the strain in his voice. Eva has slid down his back, turning their piggyback hold into something that looks desperately uncomfortable. She’s so low down that her bottom is pointing towards the floor, and her arms are bolt straight, her elbows hard as she clings onto his neck. I think Daniel’s strange, almost robotic voice is a product of trying to support Eva’s weight when most of the pressure will be from her hands around his neck. It’s funny, she almost looks as if she’s attacking him from behind, trying to strangle him. He certainly looks as if he’s being attacked; he looks as if he’s going to drop her any second.

  ‘Nice try,’ Freddie replies, before whispering to me, ‘Does he really think I’m that stupid?’

  ‘He thinks everyone is stupid,’ I tell him.

  Freddie is definitely finding this much easier than everybody else is. I’d say he wasn’t breaking a sweat, but everyone is sweating tonight, even without the physical activity.

  It isn’t unpleasant, being this close to him, though. I can smell his aftershave, masculine yet sweet, the shampoo he has used, which I recognise from the suite bathrooms, and then just something else, something I can’t explain – something undeniably attractive.

  There is something about Freddie that is just so inviting, that makes you want to get up close and personal with him, bury your face in his neck, wrap your limbs around him. As awkward as this situation is, I’ve never felt more at ease. I feel so safe and secure. Freddie isn’t just holding me up in the competition, he’s holding my head up high for me when I don’t know how to do it myself. He’s carrying me in more ways than he realises – and for absolutely nothing in return.

  ‘Just lift yourself up,’ Daniel snaps at Eva.

  I am a little taken aback. Daniel might be a bit grumpy sometimes, but this snappy side of him is something new. I wonder if it’s because he feels bad, but he seems to want to win this even more than I do.

  ‘I can’t,’ she replies. ‘I’ve only got little arms.’

  Her cuteness is like eating a spoonful of sherbet. Somehow both sickly sweet and intolerably sour. She makes my eyes water and my teeth hurt.

  ‘It’s just us and them left,’ Freddie whispers into my ear. ‘Shall we try and psych him out a little?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say, my eyes widening with excitement.

  Freddie readjusts his grip on my body, holding me securely before dancing with me, grooving to whatever Italian pop music is playing in the bar. The audience, finding it impossible not to be charmed, cheer and coo.

  ‘It’s working,’ Freddie whispers to me.

  I look over at Daniel, who is staggering to one side as if he’s trying to walk home after a few too many. Eva has sagged, practically down to behind his knees.

  ‘Just hang on,’ he groans. He’s panting like a pregnant lady on a labour ward, and the tiny woman partially hanging between his legs isn’t helping to dissuade this comparison.

  ‘I can’t,’ Eva says, breathy but casually. She doesn’t seem to care all that much about winning the round. I suppose she knows that they’ll go through to the next round regardless of whether they win.

  Daniel and I are trapped in this unspoken standoff, both so desperate to win, to get one over on each other. Lucky for me I picked a stronger person to compete with.

  Having had enough, consequences be damned, Eva simply lets go of Daniel's neck. Of course, Daniel is still holding onto her legs for dear life, so as Eva goes down, landing on her back on the dance floor with a thump that makes me wince, it’s only a split second before Daniel falls backwards, landing on top of her. I wince again.

  There is a beat of silence before every single holidaymaker in the audience erupts into laughter. Well, this is their entertainment, this lowbrow version of the Colosseum. And it’s such infectious laughter, with Freddie quickly coming down with a case of it too. It isn’t long before I catch it, unable to keep a straight face as they hurry to their feet, Daniel yelling at Eva for showing him up.

  As Zoey announces us the winners, Freddie lifts me up like a trophy before gently placing me down next to him. An unimpressed Daniel marches over to us.

  ‘What are you laughing at, eh?’ he asks. He sounds so northern when he’s angry. I think it takes Freddie a second to realise what’s happening. ‘I said, what are you laughing at, mate?’

  As my angry little ex squares up to my mountain of a fake boyfriend, in front of all these people, I take it upon myself to step between them.

  ‘It’s just a bit of fun, Dan, calm down,’ Freddie insists as his amusement fizzles out.

  ‘My name isn’t Dan,’ Daniel says angrily.

  ‘And I’m not your mate,’ Freddie replies. ‘So let’s call it even.’

  I am momentarily distracted as a light catches my eye. Eva’s necklace has come out from under her top and is reflecting one of the spotlights into my eye. I am about to look away when I realise the necklace looks familiar.

  ‘Is that my necklace?’ I ask.

  ‘What?’ she replies. ‘No. Of course not.’

  She quickly tucks it back behind her neckline, but it’s too late, I’ve already seen it.

  A neat pink stone set inside a halo of diamonds on a rose-gold chain. Daniel bought me it as a pre-wedding present. It wasn’t my style at all, but after I happened upon it by accident, when he was planning on surprising me with it, I felt bad.

  ‘Oh, my God…’ I blurt.

  I look at Daniel. He looks petrified. He knows that I know.

  ‘I found this necklace in your sock drawer when I was putting your washing away… you said it was an early wedding present, that you were saving it for the day before the wedding. It was for her, wasn’t it? So you gave it to me, and you bought her another one. I thought it was weird, you’d buy me something so tacky. Now it makes sense. It was for that tacky little Barbie.’

  ‘It’s not my fault he likes to buy me things,’ Eva protests.

  I think she might actually be an idiot.

  Freddie wraps an arm around me.

  ‘Forget that bastard,’ Freddie tells me.

  Daniel sees red.

  As Daniel tries to push past me to get to Freddie – although Lord knows what he would do if he did – he accidentally elbows me in the ribs.

  ‘Ow,’ I involuntarily blurt.

  The next thing I know, Freddie has Daniel on the floor.

  ‘You need to calm down,’ Freddie tells him firmly. ‘You just hurt Lila. Did you even realise or were you too busy lunging at me?’ />
  ‘Get off me, you silly bastard,’ Daniel mumbles from the floor.

  I hear sobbing and turn around to see Eva.

  ‘Why is everyone trying to ruin my holiday?’ she cries out.

  ‘Your holiday?’ I say angrily.

  Matteo, along with two burly security guards, steps into our personal space.

  ‘You need to come with us now,’ Matteo instructs.

  As the four of us are frogmarched away from the bar, I notice the silent audience, their jaws on the floor as they take in our little performance. I bet they can’t believe their luck, getting more of a show than they bargained for.

  As we’re led towards the hotel building, Freddie takes hold of my hand. Why do I feel as if we’re in big trouble?

  26

  Day 10

  ‘Spent the night at Freddie’s again, I see,’ Ali teases as we head for the cafe where she’s arranged for us to have lunch. ‘You dirty mare.’

  ‘Are you kidding me?’ I ask. I’m so flabbergasted my voice goes higher than I knew possible. ‘I had to stay with Freddie again because when I got back last night, you and Max were at it again!’

  Ali scrunched up her face.

  ‘We waited for ages before we got going, but when you never came back I figured you were just on the Edge of Eden.’

  Ali wiggles her eyebrows and jiggles the assets she paid good money for.

  ‘I suppose we were back quite late, but you won’t believe what happened,’ I tell her.

  I watch as nothing more than a hint of something juicy powers Ali’s engine, lighting up her eyes. Gossip is her lifeblood.

  ‘Wait, don’t tell me,’ she insists. ‘Wait until we sit down, when I’ve got a drink in my hand. I want to enjoy this.’

  As promised, I wait until we are seated in the Rosso coffee bar.

  ‘Shall we order first?’ I ask before I get going.

  ‘It’s all arranged,’ Ali tells me. ‘I thought we deserved something special.’

  ‘Oh, okay,’ I reply. ‘That’s lovely.’

  ‘I know,’ Ali says with a dismissive bat of her hand. ‘Now, spill the tea.’

  ‘Okay, well.’ I wiggle my bum down into the cushion-covered seat, ensuring I am in prime storytelling position. ‘It was round two of Mr & Mrs Valentine Island last night.’

  I pause, so that Ali can remind me of how lame this is, but she doesn’t. She has her chin resting on the back of her hand and her eyes are glued to me.

  ‘So, the aim of the game last night was for the men to lift their women up and see who could hold them for the longest,’ I explain.

  ‘Freddie will have crushed that, surely?’ Ali replies.

  ‘Of course,’ I reply, weirdly proud of my man (who isn’t my man).

  ‘How did Eva and Daniel do?’ she asks.

  ‘They came second.’

  ‘Ergh. I suppose the little snake just wrapped herself around his neck,’ Ali suggests.

  She isn’t a million miles off.

  ‘It was weirdly fun, and I was delighted that Freddie and I won! But Daniel wasn’t – he got really upset. He started on Freddie. He accidentally shoved me!’

  ‘That puny little moron,’ Ali replies just as a waiter approaches us. She turns to him. ‘Not you, babe.’

  The optionally oblivious Italian man places a series of items down in front of us, along with a bottle of champagne. He fills our glasses before wishing us ‘buon appetito’ and leaving us, just the two of us, surrounded by candles and rose petals.

  ‘Ali, are you coming on to me?’ I joke. ‘This is pretty romantic.’

  ‘It’s their romantic chocolate lunch,’ she tells me. ‘But, sadly, you’re already in the friendzone.’

  A romantic chocolate lunch involves a chocolate fountain, rhythmically pumping rich-smelling, silky-looking chocolate, accompanied by a variety of things to dip into it – marshmallows, biscotti, little bombolini donuts that, upon closer inspection (ate one the second they hit the table) are filled with a delicious vividly yellow Italian custard. Everything you’ve ever dreamed of smothering with chocolate (except maybe Freddie, although that might just be me – well, me and the 7.2 million followers I found out he has on Instagram last night) is right here on this table.

  ‘So, go on, what happened?’ Ali asks as she places an entire chocolate-covered strawberry into her mouth.

  ‘So, it all kicked off – all in front of an audience – and I think Freddie thinks he has everyone fooled with his sunglasses, but, other than me, I’m pretty sure everyone knows who he is, so we’ve got this massive crowd watching. The security blokes come over, march us off, take us to some little office room in the hotel. It felt like school, waiting to find out what our punishment was.’

  ‘If Edward started spanking you, this is definitely just a sexy dream you had last night,’ she says. ‘Weird you included your ex in it.’

  ‘Erm, you mean Freddie, not Edward,’ I remind her. ‘I am terrified that, since I watched the movie, I'm going to accidentally call him Edward… but no, that was not our punishment. There is a punishment though.’

  ‘No!’ Ali’s champagne glass hovers in front of her mouth as she waits for a taste of something juicier. ‘What’s your punishment?’

  ‘Get this,’ I start, hoping to psych her up as much as possible. ‘It turns out that Valentine Island isn’t just for those who are wildly in love, it’s for couples who are struggling too. They have multiple therapy programmes for couples… and they want Freddie and I to attend a couple of sessions.’

  ‘But you’re not even a real couple,’ Ali reminds me, her glass still held firmly in place.

  ‘I know,’ I reply. ‘There’s a group session tomorrow – which Daniel and Eva will be at – and then we have to have a one-on-one session – well, technically I think they’re two-on-two sessions.’

  ‘How kinky,’ Ali says.

  ‘Two therapists,’ I point out. ‘One male, one female. So no gender feels ganged up on.’

  Ali finally allows herself to fall about laughing. She roars, bangs the table, throws her head back. It’s quite the scene, for everyone else here – real couples – trying to have a romantic lunch.

  ‘Can they make you do it, though?’ she asks. ‘They can’t, right?’

  ‘I don’t suppose they can, no,’ I reply. ‘But they’ve told us that, if we want to continue to take part in the competition, then we have to resolve our issues. So…’

  ‘So, if you want to wipe the smile off Daniel and Eva’s faces…’

  ‘And win enough money to pay off my wedding debts,’ I add. ‘Then yes, I have to go to therapy.’

  ‘Oh, my God, this is honestly the best date I’ve ever been on,’ she jokes. ‘This is hilarious.’

  ‘It’s definitely better than the last date we went on together,’ I point out.

  ‘Oh, God, yes – I don’t know if I ever truly thanked you for that.’

  ‘You definitely owe me one,’ I remind her. ‘Worst date of my life.’

  Years ago, before I met Daniel, I ended up going on a double date with Ali – my first and only double date.

  Ali had met this guy called Gareth – I think he was some kind of surgeon, which is probably why Ali was so interested in him. Ali going out with a surgeon would be like me going out with someone who sold chocolate… just with opposite consequences. She was about to ‘seal the deal’ with Gareth, as she phrased it at the time, until his brother came into town and he said he would have to cancel. Ali was so sure that, if she didn’t bed him that night, she never would, so she told Gareth that he should bring his brother along on the date, because she knew someone who would be perfect for him… me.

  Gareth’s brother Howard was certainly an interesting character, but I was in no way perfect for him, and he could not have been more wrong for me. At first I figured we just didn’t have all that much in common, but that didn’t matter too much; I was just here for my friend. Howard was talking about the PhD he was writing at the moment �
� something about animals. That’s the thing with PhDs, though, they’re always so deep into a particular topic that, to a layman, the theses are impossible to wrap your head around. Had he been writing about something closer to my area of expertise – say, an analysis of hegemonic social constructs in Gossip Girl – then we could’ve been talking, but the way things were, I was just politely listening.

  Howard finally committed a blatant date sin, when we were walking outside afterwards. It was a chilly evening but, when Ali pointed out how freezing she was (a ploy to get Gareth to touch her) and I quickly pointed out how I wasn’t cold at all (so that Howard didn’t feel obliged to wrap an arm around me) Howard began to explain to me how the excess fat on my tummy (the little plumpness we all have, if we don’t live in the gym) worked like whale blubber, keeping me warm. He even suggested I put my hand up my top and feel my stomach, telling me that if my skin felt cold, my blubber was working… By the time Gareth chimed in about liposuction (I absolutely did not need liposuction) Ali gave them both a slap and we parted ways. A very weird night and, true to her promise, Ali has never asked me to go on a date with one of her lovers’ friends or relatives since.

  ‘I’ll pay you back one day,’ Ali says.

  ‘Want to go to this group therapy session for me?’ I suggest.

  ‘I don’t think the recast would go unnoticed,’ she points out. ‘Are you really going to go?’

  I examine the donut in my hand for a second, before popping it in my mouth.

  ‘Yep,’ I eventually say. ‘If I want to win the competition and I want to kick Daniel and Eva’s butts…’

  ‘And if you want to keep hanging out with Freddie,’ she points out. ‘There’s that too.’

  I purse my lips and shrug my shoulders. She’s got me there. Couples therapy sounds like an absolute nightmare but, with Freddie… I don’t know, I think it’s going to be fun.

  27

  Freddie and I are one of several very different couples gathered in one of the large therapy rooms.

  It’s a very calming space, with light colours, soft lighting and ambient sounds drifting from the speakers.