by Bloom, Tracy
Ben began to walk across the room. Casually at first, so as not to draw attention, but then he felt himself speed up as the dad at the door spotted the impending availability of the table that Ben was targeting.
He watched in horror as the man tugged on his wife’s elbow and pointed at the table. He increased his speed.
Inevitably Ben and the other dad reached the table at the same time.
‘It’s okay,’ he grinned. ‘I don’t want the table, just the chair.’ He swooped it up and began to carry it away before the father who had been already sitting at the table grabbed its leg.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he demanded.
‘Oh, they’ve run out of high chairs, so, er, I was just grabbing this one.’
‘But we need that high chair,’ said the other man who had arrived at the same table at the same time. ‘Look, we have a baby with us.’ He turned round to point vigorously across the restaurant to his wife, who was struggling to reach them as she was carrying a baby and trying to guide two other children.
‘I know but you see we have already sat down so I think we get dibs on this chair,’ said Ben, giving it a tug to try and free it from the man’s grasp.
He was aware things were coming out of his mouth that were irrational and petty and not in character at all but all he wanted to do was to get the high chair, put Jack in it and get to the all-you-can-eat buffet. Oh, and order a cold beer. Then he would feel like he was really on holiday.
‘I think you will both find that we have dibs on the chair,’ said the man already at the table. ‘We haven’t finished yet. We are still to partake of the ice-cream fountain and the chocolate fountain and this high chair isn’t going anywhere until I have visited them both, so please get your mitts off our table and our high chair until we have done with them.’
Ben stared at the man who looked tired and frazzled and like he needed a holiday. Like, a proper holiday. Not in a hotel surrounded by a gazillion kids.
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Ben, putting the chair down gently. ‘I don’t know what got into me. This place can drive you kind of crazy, can’t it?’
The man nodded. ‘We go home tomorrow,’ he said. Ben knew he was looking forward to it.
‘You take the next available chair,’ he said to the man standing next to him. ‘Jack can sit on my knee. He’s older than your baby. He’ll cope.’
‘Cheers, mate,’ nodded the guy back. ‘Appreciate that. It’s our first day. I hadn’t been expecting this.’ He cast his hand over the restaurant. Over the chaos and noise.
‘Ours too,’ said Ben. ‘Perhaps you need to come later to eat, do you think?’
‘Nine thirty is good,’ said the man at the table. ‘It’s quiet then. Loads of high chairs. We did that one night when Freya couldn’t sleep. Just brought her down in the buggy. Actually that was a good night. Rubbish food left on the buffet, of course, but at least it was quiet.’
‘Thanks, mate, see you around,’ said Ben, thinking that he couldn’t see his lot lasting until nine thirty for food. They’d have to put up with six-thirty chaos all week.
* * *
‘Where’s the chair?’ asked Katy when he returned to their table.
‘They hadn’t finished with it,’ replied Ben.
‘Did they say when they would be finished with it?’ demanded Katy.
‘No. And I said another family could have it anyway. Their need was greater than ours. We’ll cope.’
‘Greater than ours?’ questioned Katy.
‘They had three kids and the guy looked kind of desperate.’
‘Oh,’ said Katy, looking despondent. ‘Everyone is at the buffet so I said I’d stay at the table just in case anyone tried to nick it. Daniel’s looking after Millie.’
‘Great,’ nodded Ben, feeling a bit dazed. ‘I’ll stay with you and keep you company.’
‘Why don’t you go and get yourself some food now and then you can come back and then I’ll go with Jack and get his food and then he can sit on your knee whilst you both eat,’ replied Katy.
Ben stared at her, trying to make sense of what she had just said.
‘If you get your food now,’ said Katy, ‘then at least you will have a head start on eating before I get back with Jack and he has to sit on your knee whilst you both eat. You might at least get a few moments to enjoy your food then.’
Ben nodded but he didn’t really understand. Why did eating suddenly require so many logistics? An all-you-can-eat buffet should make life easier for the likes of them surely. Instant food, instant choice. The perfect thing for families. They’d paid quite a lot of extra money for this added convenience and yet the last thing it felt at the moment was convenient. He had never had a meal with so many logistical issues.
‘Right then,’ he said, getting up. ‘I’ll go grab something, I won’t be long.’
* * *
Actually this was starting to be fun. Ben cruised the food stations picking a bit from here, there and everywhere until his plate looked like a technicoloured food mountain. He was particularly pleased when he found the kids’ section and so was able to top his chicken tikka masala with a couple of chicken nuggets and a spoonful of macaroni cheese. Actually, to be honest, he had been a bit dazzled by the array of international foods and, given the logistics he’d so far faced in even getting to the buffet, he was doubtful whether there would be an opportunity for him to approach the laden tables again, so he was keen to pile as much on his plate as possible.
Just as he was about to return to the table, he spotted Daniel standing in line with an empty plate.
‘You not eating?’ he asked him.
‘Yes, maybe next century. I am waiting in line for a freshly cooked omelette by the slowest chef I have ever come across.’
‘There’s plenty of other stuff to choose from if you don’t want to wait,’ said Ben.
‘No, I think for my first experience in an all-you-can-eat establishment I would actually like to see how my food is being cooked and know that it is fresh to my plate and hasn’t been mauled over by… by… other people. Or, horror of horrors, sat under a lamp.’
Ben looked down at his piled-high plate and shrugged. ‘Well, I’m hungry so I’m not going to think about that,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Good luck.’
Ben returned to the table and welcomed Jack to his knee as Katy got up to go and get some food.
‘Good idea getting Jack something to nibble on,’ she said, nodding at his plate as Jack reached out and swiped two chicken nuggets from the top of his curry.
‘Oi buddy,’ Ben said as he watched one of the nuggets disappear into the toddler’s mouth. ‘Mummy’s bringing yours.’ Jack looked back at him blankly and picked up the next one.
‘Katy!’ shouted Ben. She turned back to look at him from half way across the room. ‘I think you better bring a bucket of chicken nuggets,’ he shouted. He watched, as Katy looked embarrassed before shouting back.
‘Okay and I’ll bring some more of the carrot sticks that he loves as well.’ She turned away quickly, clearly not wanting to hear any more unhealthy requests.
* * *
Ben didn’t think there was actually any one time when all ten of them were sitting at the table. Daniel took forever to sit down as he rejected the first omelette that was made for him at the omelette station, claiming they hadn’t cooked the onion enough. Gabriel diligently fed Silvie whilst waiting for Daniel to return but then left him to continue whilst he made his way around the buffet, meaning that Daniel’s omelette was cold by the time he got to it and so he joined the back of the omelette queue for the third time in the vague hope that this time he would return to the table and actually be able to eat his meal. It was looking likely that Daniel would be banned from the omelette station by breakfast the next day.
Logan wasn’t too happy with his high chair and was determined to make a break for it, causing Braindead to rush through his pile of food at indigestion speed so he could set him free. When Logan was even
tually allowed out of the chair he wandered around all the tables escorted by a very patient Braindead, who managed to occasionally veer him close to the bread table so he could grab a roll to munch on.
Abby picked at her food, bringing small portions back to the table, pushing it around with her fork and then shoving the plate forward to indicate she was done and it could be cleared away. She would then sigh and get up and repeat the whole process again until she discovered the ice-cream fountain and brought a huge pile of Mister Softee back to her place and proceeded to devour it.
‘Everybody freeze,’ said Braindead as he approached the table, looking longingly at the plate full of cakes and ice cream that Ben had managed to entice Jack back to the buffet with. ‘Photo op, I reckon.’ He pulled his phone out of his back pocket whilst holding onto Logan with his other hand. ‘You take Logan,’ he said to Abby, ‘and I’ll try and take a picture.’
‘I’ll take it,’ she said, leaping up and pulling her phone out. ‘You get in the picture.’
‘But don’t you want to be in the picture?’ asked Braindead.
‘Not really,’ she said bluntly. ‘Go on, you sit down.’
Braindead shuffled back into his seat and hauled Logan onto his knee. ‘Everyone say “happy holidays”!’ he exclaimed, a massive grin on his face.
Nobody spoke.
‘Everyone say “cheese”,’ he said.
‘Cheese,’ came the muffled reply as Abby clicked away.
‘Now you get in the picture,’ said Braindead, leaping up and handing Logan to Abby. ‘Come on, you need to be in one as well.’
‘No, really,’ she said. ‘I’m not bothered.’
‘Come on, Abby, please. First holiday with Logan and all that. Come on, we need a picture of the two of you together.’
Abby just looked at him for a moment and said nothing until she eventually slumped down in the seat.
‘Now, “cheese” everyone again,’ said Braindead.
‘We’ve lost Millie,’ announced Katy. ‘She’s gone to get more ice cream.’
‘Ah well, she was in the first one.’
‘Ice cream, Mummy,’ said Logan, looking up at Abby.
‘See, he wants ice cream,’ said Abby, getting up and handing Logan back to his dad. ‘You’d better take him.’
‘Right,’ said Braindead. ‘Right. We’ve got plenty of time for photos this week, haven’t we? Let’s take some on the beach tomorrow.’
‘I’m not going on the beach tomorrow,’ said Abby.
‘Why not?’ replied Braindead.
‘I might get burnt before we go out at night. I might just stay in the room all day.’
‘Ice cream, Daddy,’ interrupted Logan.
‘Sure thing,’ Braindead said, turning his back on his wife.
Chapter Eleven
Katy had no idea what to wear to a hen night out in Spain with a group of girls she’d only met for a couple of hours on the plane. It was insane. Quite apart from the fact she hadn’t packed for a hen party. She’d packed for a family holiday so her clothes consisted of swimsuits with hidden magic panels that kept your belly in and cover-up kaftans for hiding cellulite on the beach and maxi dresses in case she didn’t have time to shave her legs. She also had a full plethora of comfortable shoes. Painful feet became extremely unnecessary, Katy had found, the minute you became a mother.
The day had passed by fairly uneventfully. Apart from the ridiculously early start, of course. Jack had woken up at 5.30 a.m. so Ben had put him in the bed between them but of course he’d wriggled and squirmed, making sleep completely impossible. Still, at least it meant they had been ridiculously early for breakfast, so had their pick of the tables and of the high chairs.
Katy couldn’t help but yawn as she surveyed the wardrobe and plucked out a knee-length cotton dress, which would have to do, and some sparkly flip-flops. They were comfortable, functional and most definitely shouted, I am a mother and wife and absolutely not interested in being harassed by lecherous men even if I am out on a hen do.
She managed to find some shimmering eyeshadow and some fairly vivid lip-gloss, which did lift her appearance, and then contemplated whether a black leather bumbag would be acceptable. Maybe not. It was possible Daniel would never speak to her again if she made him go out with her wearing a bumbag.
She glanced at her phone. Yet another message appeared on the screen from Cassie. To say that Katy had received a positive response from her when she had texted to say they were coming out was an understatement. Cassie had clearly been through the whole emoji catalogue to convey how grateful/happy/ecstatic/delighted/over the moon she was and had sent Katy further texts throughout the day to check she was still coming. It was nice to be so wanted but Katy couldn’t help thinking that there was something very wrong when the most important person attending your hen party was a complete stranger you’d met on the plane on the way there. She put her phone in her bag and took one last look at her reflection. ‘Middle-aged’ was the only word that sprang to mind but it would have to do.
When Katy arrived in reception, Daniel was already there in a pristine pastel pink linen shirt looking very suitable for one of those upmarket hen dos where champagne was quaffed and funny stories about the bride-to-be were shared over canapés. Katy very much doubted that this night out would be anything like that. There was an air of calm as the kids sat plugged into headphones and iPads. Silvie was in her pushchair being quietly rocked by Gabriel with a towel draped over the hood. Presumably she was fast asleep. Everyone else was sipping on bottles of ice-cold beer, including Ollie, who looked very comfortable sitting between Ben and Braindead. They had seen him by the pool earlier and he’d been invited to the boys’ babysitting session this evening, which he had gratefully accepted, stating that he couldn’t bear to spend another night in the honeymoon suite, brushing up rose petals.
‘You look nice,’ said Ben to Katy.
‘You not changed yet?’ asked Daniel.
‘Thank you, husband,’ she replied to Ben. ‘Get stuffed, ex best friend,’ she told Daniel.
She plonked herself down on a spare seat. ‘No Abby yet?’ she asked Braindead.
He shook his head but said nothing else, instead staring at the TV screen showing some random football match over the bar.
‘Can’t remember the last hen do I went on,’ she said to no-one in particular. ‘Years ago, I reckon, can’t even really remember what you’re supposed to do.’
‘I had a stag do,’ muttered Ollie, taking a large swig of his drink.
‘Seriously!’ replied Braindead, suddenly alert.
‘Oh yeah, she let me do that. Had a cracking weekend in Wales actually. You know, at one of those outward bound places. Really enjoyed it.’
‘So all was not lost then,’ said Braindead. ‘You got a good weekend away with your mates even if you didn’t get married.’
‘Guess so,’ shrugged Ollie. ‘They made me get a tattoo though,’ he added. ‘I didn’t want one but we were playing this stupid game and somehow I lost and I had to have a tattoo. The good thing was I got to choose where and what.’
‘So let’s see it then,’ said Daniel, leaning over. ‘Did you make sure you got something cool like a Chinese proverb or something?’
‘You really don’t want to see it,’ sighed Ollie.
‘Go on, don’t be shy,’ said Daniel. ‘I always think it shows so much about someone’s personality when it comes to what you have tattooed about your person. It’s an insight into their soul, I think.’
‘I really don’t think you want to see it,’ repeated Ollie.
‘Aw, mate, come on,’ said Ben. ‘Or would you prefer to show us tomorrow night on the lads’ night out?’ he added.
‘No way!’ shrieked Daniel. ‘I want to see it. Come on, Ollie, just show us.’
Ollie downed the rest of his drink before standing up and turning around. He unbuttoned his fly and then pulled down the back of his shorts to reveal the top of his left buttock and the horro
r story tattooed on it.
‘Oh my God,’ gasped Katy. ‘Oh my God, that is a disaster. What on earth made you do that?’ she asked.
‘I thought it was a good idea at the time,’ replied Ollie, peering over his shoulder to try and take a look at his massive mistake.
‘Perhaps you could tattoo something else over it,’ said Daniel, screwing his face up, clearly not impressed.
Braindead was just laughing, heaving his shoulders up and down.
‘That’s not very kind,’ Katy told him. ‘He wasn’t to know, was he?’
‘Epic fail, lad,’ said Braindead, wiping the tears away from his eyes. ‘Really, could it be any worse? You are a walking disaster.’
Gabriel heard the commotion and peered round to see what everyone else was looking at.
‘Who is Ellie?’ he asked on reading the name beautifully etched on Ollie’s backside and encased in an elegant red heart with Cupid’s arrow pierced through it.
Everyone else stifled their laughter whilst Gabriel looked around him, confused. Then a look of realisation crossed his face.
‘Is she your ex fiancée?’ he asked. ‘Why did you do that?’
‘Because I thought she was going to marry me!’ said Ollie, doing up his trousers and sitting down again red-faced. ‘Surely it’s a pretty safe bet to get your fiancé’s name tattooed on your backside a couple of months before you get married?’