Sun, Sea and Sangria

by Victoria Cooke

  I take in her shocked expression. ‘Don’t worry, I can still work here too as Gaël only needs me for a few afternoons or evenings a week.’

  ‘That’s great. Doing what you love is exactly what you need.’ She smiles. ‘Now can you take the order from table two please.’

  Later, when the bar is quiet, I find myself checking my Instagram feed. There are a few new posts on the Heavenly Hunks’ page, including a few Boomerangs and videos. I lean on the bar and watch them.

  ‘Kat!’

  I jump out of my skin and turn around to face Andrea.

  ‘You just said you’re making changes! This is not doing you any good.’

  ‘You think it’s wrong of me to keep up to date with their success?’ I ask defensively.

  ‘No. I think it’s unhealthy to be so obsessed. You do nothing but follow the Hunks around the internet like a virtual lost puppy. It’s more than keeping up with their success and you know it.’

  I do know it.

  ‘I’m sorry, but someone needs to tell you to pull yourself together.’

  I glance down at the thick rubber mat on the floor of the bar area. You can drop a bottle of vodka on this mat and it wouldn’t smash, yet here I am, standing on top of it, broken in a thousand messy pieces.

  ‘I know.’ I choke on the words.

  ‘Oh, Kat.’ Andrea pulls me into a tight embrace. ‘It’s normal to feel sad, but you have to deal with it in order to move on. I’m sorry I upset you, but watching the videos online every second of the day is just you putting your emotions on hold – you need to let go.’

  ‘You’re right, but it’s not only that I miss the guys. It’s …’ I can’t bring myself to say it so I pull out my phone, prompting an unimpressed look from Andrea. ‘It’s not what you think. Just watch this.’

  I fast-forward the video of The Celia O’Donnell Show to the truth or dare part and hand it to Andrea. She looks impatient but takes it anyway and presses play. As the segment progresses, I watch her expression change from frustration to something more sympathetic. Through the tinny speaker on my phone, I can just about make out Jay’s voice. It’s enough to give me a sharp pain in my chest.

  When the clip ends, Andrea looks at me with heavy eyes. ‘You love him too, don’t you?’

  ‘Love?’ That’s a strong word. I’m about to deny it but the memories come back to me. Swimming at the Ritz Carlton, lying in bed all day, the butterflies, the tightness in my abdomen, the swelling in my chest and the happiness that flooded my body when we were together. The tearing pain of saying goodbye. Andrea is right but it scares me to admit it.

  ‘Yes, love. Why does it scare you so much?’

  ‘Because the last time I thought I was in love it ruined my life.’

  ***

  I sit waiting. It’s gone dark and I’m shivering. I hug my legs tighter to my chest and the moisture from my face transfers, making my prickly knees soggy. I should get up off the floor, turn the heating on and sort myself out but I can’t. The clunk of the key turning in the lock makes me jump. My heart is racing. He’s home.

  ‘Katelyn?’ he shouts up the stairs. There’s uncertainty in his tone like he thinks I’m out. He’s mad. I shouldn’t be out at this time.

  ‘Katelyn?’ he calls again, impatient now. I hear him stomping from room to room. The lounge, then the kitchen and the small utility room at the back. Blood pumps thickly around my eardrums. His heavy feet climb the stairs.

  The door swings open followed by a blinding light. ‘There you are. What the hell are you doing on the floor?’

  I look up slowly. His eyes are filled with hatred.

  ‘I know everything,’ I say. My words are barely audible.

  ‘What are you talking about? Get up off the floor, you daft cow.’

  ‘I started recording us. You. I wanted to keep a record of things for my own sanity. I was embarrassed, Iain. I wanted to make sure I didn’t make any more mistakes.’

  ‘You’ve lost it.’

  The fact that he’s carrying this on when I know the truth helps me turn my fear into rage.

  ‘No,’ I yell. ‘You’ve lost it, you twisted freak! I recorded everything; when you said you’d pick me up and didn’t. You left me in the snow for three hours, Iain, and when I rang you in tears, you tried to make me believe you told me you couldn’t pick me up. But I have it all here.’ I thrust my phone out in front of me and hit play.

  ‘Course I’ll pick you up at the bus stop. It’s going to snow later so I don’t want you walking.’

  He laughs. The audacity makes me shake with anger.

  ‘Then after that, I told you I had to work late.’

  ‘You didn’t. Your mind games are not going to work on me anymore. At first, I thought maybe your mind was going. I felt sorry for you.’ I spit the last few words out. ‘But your mind is fine. When I eventually decided to walk the last five miles home, Margaret Penistone from the village store drove past and gave me a lift. She is lovely, but I’ve only just learnt that because you always manage to persuade me to stay in, don’t you?’

  He stands there, stony-faced, giving nothing away. It causes me to falter.

  ‘Anyway, she’s seen your car, parked up in the lay-by on the road out towards the river—’

  ‘So?’ he spits.

  ‘Most nights, Iain.’ I rise to my feet. I can’t have him looking down at me whilst I do this. ‘You’re not alone in the car, are you?’

  He sits on the edge of the bed, plotting his next move no doubt. His hesitation gives me strength.

  ‘You’re having an affair and you’ve been screwing with my head, making me feel stupid whilst you get away with screwing God knows who every night.’

  ‘Katelyn, it’s not what you think.’

  ‘It’s exactly what I think. I want you to get the hell out of my house,’ I shout.

  ‘But—’ His lip falls slack and wobbles.

  ‘Get out!’

  ***

  ‘I know you had a bad experience but whatever happened is in the past. You have to move on. Your feelings now are the ones that matter.’

  I tense. ‘I know and I’ve already decided that I won’t shy away from relationships from now on.’

  ‘But you’ve let the man you love go.’

  ‘I gave him the opportunity of a lifetime,’ I correct.

  ‘You pushed him towards something he didn’t care about.’

  I can’t speak because I know she’s right.

  ‘Listen, I know you believed in your heart it was the right thing to do but it’s okay to admit you were wrong.’

  ‘What good is that now? He’s gone for the next five months at least – if the success of the Hunks continues it will be another year after that. I’ve lost him, Andri.’

  ‘For someone who sought safety by micromanaging every aspect of your business, you’re missing a glaringly obvious solution here.’

  I frown. If she thinks I can up sticks and move to Las Vegas to be with Jay, she’s watched one American romcom too many. I have no chance of getting a work visa because I have no work to go to and I can’t afford to live there without a job. He probably wouldn’t want me now anyway. ‘No, I’m not. I can’t just go halfway around the world to chase a guy I monumentally screwed over. He’s better off without me and my emotional baggage. He might think he loves me, but when he finds love with someone else, he’ll see that too.’

  She folds her arms. ‘Katelyn.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’ve sabotaged your own happiness for far too long. I’m making you redundant. I’m going to ask Gaël to do the same because being stuck in a rut with your career isn’t what’s wrong. It’s being stuck in a rut with your love life.’

  ‘What? You can’t sack me because I won’t chase after someone who lives over five thousand miles away.’

  ‘I can. Here.’ She hands me a brown envelope.

  ‘What’s this?’

  ‘Take it,’ she says. ‘It’s your redundancy package.’<
br />
  Redundancy package? ‘What are you talking about?’

  I’m at a loss. What kind of friend would do this? I’m at my lowest ebb and she’s sacking me when she knows I hardly have enough euros to last the next few months. ‘I know I was late this morning but it was a one-off. Please, Andri, I need this job.’

  ‘Take the envelope.’ She thrusts it at me and, tentatively, I do as she says. What choice do I have? At this point, I’d go and beg Alonso for a job in any of his bars.

  I go to open the envelope but Andrea places a firm hand over mine. ‘I just want to hear you say it.’

  ‘Say what?’

  ‘That you love Jay.’

  Why is she doing this to me? ‘What, because if I admit that I love Jay you’ll give me my job back? Brilliant.’

  ‘No, I’m not going to give you your job back.’

  ‘You’re a piece of work.’ I shake my head.

  ‘Just admit it!’

  ‘Fine!’ I’m almost screaming. ‘I love Jay. For all the use it is.’

  I throw my head in my hands and start to cry. It’s not just a few tears; it’s shoulder-hitching tears with involuntary sobs that pop out like hiccups. It’s what millennials call ‘ugly crying’.

  ‘Okay,’ she says softly, sliding her hand away. ‘Now open the envelope.’

  I look up at her through stinging eyes, my vision almost opaque.

  ‘Go on,’ she prompts.

  Carefully, I slide my nail down the seal and slide out a piece of paper. I scan the document and it’s a few seconds before it registers.

  ‘You bought me a plane ticket?’ I clutch my hand to my mouth.

  She nods, a sheepish smile playing on her lips.

  ‘But …’ I’m lost for words.

  ‘It’s a return ticket. Just go to Las Vegas and figure things out,’ she says.

  ‘What about work and my life here? I can’t just put everything on hold.’

  ‘I hear you’ve been fired, and I think what you mean is “thank you”.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say, still shell-shocked. ‘I can’t accept this though, it’s too much.’

  ‘You’re my friend and I want you to be happy. You’ve been miserable ever since they left, and I thought it would help to pay them a visit. Maybe you could talk to Jay …’

  I glance at the date. ‘Gosh, this is for tomorrow!’ Thoughts of speed-packing and leg-shaving race through my mind.

  ‘If I left it any longer you’d talk yourself out of going.’

  She knows me too well.

  ‘I can’t believe you bought me a ticket to Las Vegas,’ I say, still absorbing her generosity.

  ‘It was either that or smash your phone and iPad, so either way, I was parting with a large sum of money,’ she says drily.

  ‘How did you even manage to do this? Don’t you need personal details?’

  ‘Remember when you started here and I photocopied your passport and made you fill in all those employment contracts?’ She winks.

  I lunge forward and wrap her tightly in my arms. ‘Thank you so much, Andrea. I will pay you back every penny, I promise.’

  ‘I don’t want the money. I want you to be happy,’ she says with earnestness etched into her features.

  ‘I don’t know what to say. It’s so generous of you.’

  ‘Say that you’ll go with an open mind and come back with a clear head. Jay loves you and you love him.’

  I nod, overwhelmed with a feeling of fullness. This is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. ‘You are a wonderful person, Andrea.’

  ‘Tell me something I don’t know.’

  Chapter 38

  The tug starts the pushback and the plane gently moves away from the terminal. It’s my second flight of the day, as I had to fly via Gatwick but I’m no more relaxed. I hate flying. The flight-safety film comes on. Even though I know the ropes after thirty-odd years of flying, I still normally give these things my undivided attention, but today I can’t concentrate.

  We puncture the grey clouds, and ten minutes later we’re sailing through gorgeous blue air atop a fluffy white pillow that masks all of Earth’s ugly problems. The seatbelt sign turns off and the sound of unclicking buckles is instantaneous. I leave mine on, but it’s not just the fear of plummeting into the Atlantic that’s causing the uncomfortable knot in my stomach and no amount of seatbelt-wearing will make that go away. I’m consumed by the gut-twisting fear of seeing Jay and explaining why the hell I’ve travelled halfway around the world to see him when I’m pretty sure he hates me. How do I explain that I was wrong and I want to be with him?

  I accept a mini bottle of wine from the drinks trolley and browse the movie selection. When nothing catches my eye, I play Who Wants to Be A Millionaire? for a good hour and, frustratingly, never get past two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. It was a good distraction while it lasted. Dinner breaks up the next hour, but once that’s been cleared away, the lights are dimmed and people begin to snuggle up beneath blankets. There’s not a chance I’ll be able to sleep with the concoction of unease bubbling away in my stomach, so I wander to the loo, for something to do more than anything, then purposely walk down the opposite aisle and through the back galley to get back to my seat. The man next to me gives me a weary glance as I sit down and I’m worried that my fidgeting has started to annoy him.

  When everything fails to offer distraction, I let my mind go to where it’s been trying to go ever since Andrea gave me this flight ticket. Jay. Once I do, I’m pelted with little pebbles of doubt. What if he was wrong about his feelings and is happy now? What if he’s moved on and seeing me will be his undoing? What if he’s mad at me for messing him around? What if he’s met someone else? I think (and this ‘think’ lacks any form of confident backing) that I can cope with all scenarios but the last. At least I will have tried, and I’ll have closure. But if he’s met someone else, then I’ll be too late; he’ll be gone completely and I’ll have nobody to blame but myself.

  Perhaps it would be better to change my flight home to tomorrow or something and put this little adventure down to Andrea filling my head with nonsense. The plane hits an air pocket and bounces violently. The seatbelt sign pings on and my heart races as the plane continues to shake and rattle. I glance around nervously. Nobody else seems in the slightest bit fazed, but I can’t settle now.

  I hit the service button, probably with a little too much vigour as the man next to me gives me another look. I ignore him since I have enough to worry about without adding him to the list. The flight attendant appears within a few moments.

  ‘Is there something I can get for you?’ she asks before plastering a red-lipped smile on her face. I feel a bit sorry for her having to do that and almost tell her she doesn’t have to smile on my account.

  ‘Can I get another one of those little bottles of white wine please?’ Then I remember Andrea’s kindness and how I’ve irked the man next to me and add, ‘And whatever he’s having. It’s on me.’

  I’m quite proud of myself; I’ve never completed a random act of kindness before.

  ‘Funny, aren’t you?’ he says, and my head spins around so quickly I almost break my neck.

  ‘Excuse me? I was just trying to do one of those random-acts-of-kindness things.’

  He narrows his eyes and studies me for a second or two. ‘Sorry, I thought you were joking, because, you know, they’re complimentary.’

  I feel myself blush. Of course they are; I had one earlier. ‘Sorry, too many Ryanair flights,’ I say sheepishly. ‘I was genuinely trying to apologise for disturbing you.’

  To my relief, he smiles. ‘I’ll have a beer,’ he says to the flight attendant. ‘And she’s paying.’ He winks at me, and the air flight attendant, who has probably heard that joke a thousand times, gives a wry smile and heads to the galley for our drinks.

  ‘I’m Simon,’ he says, holding out a hand for me to shake.

  ‘Kat.’

  ‘Been to Vegas before?’ he asks.

/>   ‘No, it’s not somewhere I’ve ever wanted to go before but I’m visiting someone.’

  ‘I’ve been twice. It’s mental! I’m meeting some of my pals for a stag do. The missus wouldn’t let me do the full week so I’m having five days over there.’

  I smile. I get the impression his loyalty to his ‘missus’ runs quite deep and he’s not actually bothered about his shortened jolly.

  ‘So, who you visiting? Celine Dion?’ He laughs at his own joke. It isn’t funny but it helps me warm to him.

  ‘Something like that. I used to manage an all-male exotic dance act called the Heavenly Hunks and I’m going to see them now they’re performing in Las Vegas.’

  ‘You’re kidding?’

  I widen my eyes. ‘No.’

  ‘My missus has been watching those guys on all the chat shows. They’re becoming quite a name now. Bet you’re gutted you’re just the ex-manager, aren’t you?’

  If only he knew. ‘No, it’s a long story, but I wish them well.’

  ‘Wow.’ He sits back in his chair. ‘I can’t believe that. Wait until my missus finds out about this. She’ll hate this Vegas trip even more.’

  ‘You’ll have to bring her next time,’ I say, and he laughs like that’s the most ridiculous suggestion he’s ever heard. The flight attendant brings our drinks and a mini bag of pretzels each and the turbulence seems to dissolve.

  ‘Cheers to Las Vegas,’ he says, pressing his plastic glass to mine.

  ‘Cheers.’ I take a sip.

  ‘So,’ he says through a mouthful of crumbs, ‘you’re heading out to Vegas to see a bunch of strippers who you used to manage? Aren’t you even a bit gutted that you’re not their manager anymore?’

  ‘Like I said, it’s a long story, but the short version is that to hit the big time, they had to go with a new manager. I’m happy for them.’

  ‘That’s very diplomatic of you. I bet they can’t wait to see you.’

  ‘They don’t know I’m coming.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Because if I warned them, the one person I’m most desperate to see would probably go into hiding. ‘It’s a long story.’