‘You’re incredibly talented,’ Gina said, moving up closer to him as Rhett and Terry played air guitar behind them on the pavement.
‘Thank you, I appreciate it!’ he said, giving his best charming smile. ‘Thanks for the tip-off about Erin’s Bar, too. That sounds like just my kind of place. Once the heavy metal festival ends, I hope we can go there so I can check it out.’
‘It’s fun, they have all sorts of acts on. I don’t know if they have any open slots, but it’ll be a good start if nothing else.’
‘How long have you been out here?’ Wes asked.
Gina was attractive, he was younger than the other guys in their group, and he reckoned that would put him at the front of the queue. Besides, they were all paired off or gay – except for Harriet, who he’d also make time to speak to as soon as possible. All he needed to do was to find out their favourite song, play it on stage, dedicate the tune to them in front of an audience, and you’d hear the ping of their knicker elastic before the final chord had been played.
‘I’m a traveller,’ Gina said, sensing their commonality. ‘I don’t live anywhere in particular, I don’t have a bloke or a woman in tow, so I please myself.’
Wes clocked the clues. So she was probably bi. Either that, or very PC. Either way, at least fifty per cent of her was into men, that was all he needed to work with.
‘What’s your preferred type of music? I take it a lady like you isn’t into this stuff?’
AC/DC’s ‘Whole Lotta Rosie’ was now blaring out of the speakers. Terry and Rhett were back to back on a beachfront bench playing air guitar. Anybody passing might have mistaken them for Angus and Malcolm Young. On second look, they’d have realised it was just a couple of British idiots.
‘Oh, I love a bit of rock and roll at times. I like this stuff. But when I’m working I like it quieter. David Gray, Dido, Coldplay. That sort of thing. Do you play David Gray?’
If I don’t now, I soon will, Wes thought to himself.
‘Yeah, I reckon I could still manage “Babylon”, although it’s a while since I’ve played it. I’ll do it tonight if they let me on stage.’
‘Wow, really? Thank you, what a treat.’
‘One to go,’ was the thought running through Wes’s head as he looked around for Harriet. The others had begun to gather away from the bar and were looking out towards the sea over to Benidorm. Harriet was there, not really taking part in the conversation. The loners were always the easiest for Wes. Nobody to get in the way and make life difficult.
‘We should join the others,’ Wes said to Gina. ‘I think those two will have burned themselves out soon.’
As ‘Whole Lotta Rosie’ came to an end and Terry and Rhett came to the realisation that they were not in fact on stage at Wembley, the consensus was that it was time to move on.
Terry was dripping with sweat. Rhett, the fitter of the two, regained his composure swiftly.
‘Okay, we need to regroup!’ Caitlen said.
She was not the leader, but as she was bankrolling the entire holiday, she felt duty-bound to keep things on track. So far it had felt like herding cats.
‘I propose a gentle walk along the beach before Terry dies from a heart attack, then we head for Erin’s Bar. Everybody okay with that?’
‘It’s quite a walk along the beach,’ Gina said. ‘If you follow me, I’ll lead the way.’
They split off into their groups. Terry, Emmy and Rhett moved off towards the sea away from the walkway. Matt tried to resist Becky pulling away as a couple. He made a vain attempt to include Naomi in the conversation, but Becky was having none of it. She took Matt’s hand and fell back from the main group.
‘I’m going to run ahead,’ Wes said.
He’d brought his guitar with him, ready to put on a show at the drop of a hat if he got a bite in one of the bars.
He put his hand up as a parting gesture, smiled at Gina and moved into the crowd of holiday-makers who were enjoying the last of the day’s sunshine.
Kasey and Harriet, who might have been a couple had their gender preferences been different, walked on with Naomi and Porter. The debate about vaping had flared up again, and as a former smoker himself Kasey was now siding with Porter and his right to choose. It was more friendly now, there was a lot more laughter, Naomi realised that she’d been too quick off the mark in condemning her friend. She’d almost bitten his head off. She’d have to watch that temper.
Caitlen was ecstatic that she was left alone with Gina. She hung back a little, making sure that they stayed ahead of Matt and Becky but didn’t catch up with the vaping debating society. She didn’t care about the argument and couldn’t care less what Porter did. He never smoked in their house, that was all she cared about.
‘It’s lovely, isn’t it?’ said Gina. ‘People call this place Blackpool with sun but it’s much better than that. I love it here. You’ve got the trains and the tram, you’re ten minutes from the most incredible countryside. And the weather’s amazing.’
‘You know, I’m really quite envious of you, Gina. How do you do it, living on your own, with no job or house to worry about? I’d love to do what you do.’
‘Aren’t you and Terry married – do you have kids?’
With one short sentence, Gina had got to the heart of it.
‘No, we don’t have kids and we’re not married.’
Gina said nothing.
‘Truth be told, we’re like chalk and cheese. As you can probably tell from his heavy rock performance back there.’
Gina laughed.
‘It was quite something, wasn’t it? How do you know Wes? He’s not one of your group, is he?’
‘No, I picked him up at the airport. Not like that, of course. I don’t really know how we picked him up actually. He just tagged along. But what a performer!’
‘I don’t want to piss on your parade, but just be wary of Wes. I meet a lot of guys like him on the road. They’re chancers. Wherever I lay my hat and all that. He’s tried his luck with me already. If he plays a David Gray song on stage during this holiday, believe me, he’s a freeloader. I just don’t want you to be taken advantage of.’
‘This beach is fantastic,’ Caitlen changed the subject, she hadn’t even thought to question Wes’s motives. Naomi’s group had stopped walking and were waiting for Gina to catch up so they could check how far they had to walk.
‘It’s a little way to go yet. You’re not going flaky on me, are you? If you think this is a long way, you should try the walk up to the Benidorm Cross up there!’
Gina pointed ahead of her into the distance. On a hill, overlooking the resort and behind the high-rise buildings was a large cross.
‘Can you walk up there?’ Naomi asked. ‘It looks really high up.’
‘It’s quite a hike if you’re not used to walking long distances, but it’s not that difficult. Just pace yourself and bring some water to cool yourself down, you don’t need to be an athlete to get up there.’
Terry, Rhett and Emmy joined the group, half hearing the conversation.
‘Are you talking about walking all the way up to that cross?’ Rhett asked.
‘We are,’ Naomi answered. ‘If you think you could manage it after your heavy metal escapades.’
‘Walk all the way up there?’ Emmy said, her eyes searching for the cross. ‘Over my dead body!’
Chapter Twelve
Matt and Becky: April
‘Well, I think she was a right cow upstaging us like that. It’s our engagement – news doesn’t come any bigger than that!’
Becky had been fractious since they’d returned from Caitlen’s dinner party. Matt was preoccupied with his earlier encounter with Harriet in the kitchen. They’d almost been caught, but it felt delicious – dangerous, daring and exhilarating. And now he was back in his prison cell, like a dog on a lead, itching to run off into the distance but constrained by his owner.
How had he got himself into this state? It was a classic rebound scenario, only he’d
been stupid enough to take refuge with Becky. Now, Becky was hot, she was a great looking woman and any man would be proud to be seen out with her at a physical level. But she was unstable. It’s the only way Matt knew how to describe it. He knew that mental illness could be a sensitive issue, he had every sympathy with anybody experiencing it. But Becky was dangerous. He didn’t know how it would be described in medical terms. He’d looked it up online. It was psychosis, as far as he could tell, doing his amateur doctor research. She appeared to be delusional, perhaps even bipolar at times. She was up and down a lot, but you only got a real sense of that when you spent every day with her. And now he’d signed up for that, he felt completely trapped.
He’d always fancied Becky physically and she’d made it very clear from the first day that they’d met – at another one of Caitlen’s get-togethers, ironically enough – that she wanted him. It had been a cause of tension between him and Harriet at the time.
‘She wants to jump your bones, that’s really bloody rude of her to make it so obvious while I’m around.’
‘She’s only messing around and you know I’m not interested. She’s attractive, sure, but she’s not marriage material. She can be pretty tempestuous at times.’
That would make Harriet prickly, the talk of marriage and the implied suggestion of babies. She wasn’t ready for that yet, and any mention of it pressed the wrong buttons for her. It was a discussion just like that which had caused Matt to flee to Becky in the first place.
‘Do you think she’ll share the money out? I mean, maybe chip in and help with the wedding. She could pay for the honeymoon as a present.’
Becky broke Matt’s train of thought. The truth was, since being with her he’d recognised a little bit of himself in her. That neediness. He’d pressured Harriet too much. He loved Harriet and wanted to marry her. He desired nothing more than to think about a life of marital bliss and babies. But he’d come on too strong, Harriet needed more time. And in his impetuousness, he’d blown the best relationship he’d ever had. And exchanged it for this one with Becky.
‘You can’t think like that, Becky,’ he replied. ‘It’s Cait’s money and we should be grateful that she’s treating us to the trip to Spain. I’d say that’s quite enough, wouldn’t you?’
‘No,’ Becky replied, taut and suddenly very defensive. ‘We’ve been friends with her and Naomi for a couple of years now, it’s how you and I met. Friends look after friends. They don’t get rich and leave them behind. Especially when they’re getting married.’
Becky had a weird logic which Matt couldn’t get his head around. He made the foolish error of trying to set her right.
‘Cait doesn’t owe us anything, Becky. Besides, the money she has is wonderful, but she’s hardly rich. It’s more like a cash windfall. She’ll be able to buy a nice house, put some in the bank, maybe even a holiday home. But it’s not enough to set her up for life.’
‘Why do you always support other people, Matt? You never support me. You’re going to be my husband soon. We’re a unit. We should be on the same page about these things.’
Matt saw the wild look in her eyes. It was time for him to back off. If he wound her up any more, what followed might get ugly.
He wondered if he dared to end it there and then. If he just walked out – right at that moment – would she just get over it? Would all the threats she’d made last time prove to be empty?
He shuddered when he thought back to it. He’d only mentioned how nice Harriet had been looking at a meal they’d been to as a smaller group. Becky had flown off the handle completely.
‘I don’t want you to see that slut again! She’s not good for you, she poisons your mind against me. She still wants you, even though she broke it off with you. Leave her alone!’
‘But we have to see her still, she’s part of our group. We can’t not talk to her. You at least have to be polite to her.’
‘She’s a whore and I want you to stay away from her. If you ever got together again I don’t know what I’d do. I’d kill myself, that’s what I’d do. If I lost you to her, you’d find me dead, right here in this house!’
Becky grabbed a kitchen knife with a serrated edge. She held it against her wrist and pressed down on the skin.
Only the week before, Matt had cut his finger on that knife. It was sharp and deadly, it had hurt.
‘Or maybe I’ll slit my own throat. That will show you how much I love you. Then you’ll regret ever being with that slag! I’d kill her too, that would teach her to try and steal you away from me.’
Matt didn’t know what to do. The knife was being waved around precariously, one slip and she’d cut herself.
‘Becky, darling, calm down. It’s over with me and Harriet. You said it yourself, she threw me out, she ended it. And now I’m with you. And we’re ... we’re going to be married soon.’
The words stuck in his throat as he said them.
Matt watched as Becky relaxed her grip on the knife.
‘I’m telling you, Matt, if you ever go back to that woman again, you’ll find me here hanging from a rope tied to the loft rafters. I’ve worked it all out, I don’t care. If it comes to it, I’ll either use the knife or hang myself on the landing. And you’ll be the one who’s responsible. You and Harriet.’
Becky and Harriet used to be friends. They would talk and laugh together, though when Matt looked back he realised that Becky had probably only tolerated Harriet to get to him. Perhaps she’d planned it that way all along, she was manipulative enough.
Matt tried to change the subject. He wanted Becky to put the knife away.
‘I thought you looked amazing tonight. I love that dress, it really suits you.’
The change in Becky was almost immediate. She placed the knife on the kitchen worktop.
‘Naomi complimented me on it too. She said it made my figure look stunning.’
‘I agree. I like your hair up like that too. It shows off your beautiful neck.’
Becky walked away from the knife, put her arms around him and pulled him in towards her.
‘I like it best when it’s just me and you,’ she said, kissing his neck. ‘We’re like little love birds and this house is our nest.’
Matt was relieved that the situation hadn’t escalated. He pulled Becky in towards him, not wanting to give her any inkling that his mind was elsewhere. It was Harriet he was imagining, pressed in close to him, her smell intoxicating, her body like an enchanting potion.
‘You know, Caitlen was really careless this evening.’
‘Why?’ Matt replied, wondering where this was heading.
‘Do you remember when we’d all moved into the lounge and she was giving everybody their passwords?’
‘Yes. I can’t stop repeating mine in my head. I’m terrified of forgetting it.’
‘Remember when her mobile phone went off and she took the call? You were looking at the pictures on the wall.’
Matt nodded. They were still close together, he could look directly into Becky’s eyes. She was calm again now.
‘I took a photo of the full list. She just left it there on the table. I couldn’t resist it. She said that she shredded it after she’d spoken to all of us, but I have a photo of it. It’s on my phone.’
‘Damn, Becky, you shouldn’t have done that!’
She moved away from him. He’d felt her tense up the moment he’d dared to venture that he might have a different opinion.
‘Why not?’ she asked. ‘If Caitlen was stupid enough to leave it there in the open, that’s her lookout.’
‘But she trusts us, Becky. We’re her friends. She wanted us to help her keep that information secure. And now you’ve broken that trust. You should delete the image.’
‘Sod that!’ Becky laughed. ‘If she doesn’t help us out with the wedding of her own accord, I’ll tell her that I’ve got her precious bloody passwords. I’ll be fair, I’ll give her a chance to offer first. But if she leaves us high and dry ... well, screw her. I’l
l either force her into giving us some or I’ll figure out how to take it for myself.’
‘You can’t do that, Becky! If the full password fell into the wrong hands, she could lose all her money. You don’t want that, do you?’
Becky had moved away from him now and was edging back towards the kitchen knife. Matt could feel himself sweating at the temples. Is this what domestic abuse is like? he wondered. Is this how it begins, with manipulation and threats?
‘If she’s as good a friend as she claims to be, she’ll help us out with the wedding without being prompted. We announced our engagement on the same night as she broke her news. She should be pleased to celebrate her good fortune with us. And if she’s not ... well, she’ll regret it.’
Matt looked towards Becky. In that moment he saw her for what she truly was. And it frightened him. He now had no idea what this woman was capable of or what else she might have been plotting in her disturbed mind.
Chapter Thirteen
Benidorm: June
As they walked into Erin’s Bar, things were in full flow.
‘I’ve fallen in love with Benidorm!’ Terry declared. ‘Not only is it not pissing with rain all the time, they serve John Smiths beer everywhere.’
‘What’s the big deal with John Smiths?’ Porter asked.
‘In the UK you can’t get a decent pint any more. Everything is either some speciality beer brewed by guys with beards long enough to sleep in or they’re flavoured with Himalayan herbs extracted from the arses of mountain goats. I just want a regular pint of beer, not some bloody concoction dreamed up by a youngster who’s barely out of school.’
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