by Zoe May
Eventually, Will comes over.
‘Sorry about that,’ he says, sitting down. ‘I felt sorry for him playing on his own.’
‘I know you did. He looked like he appreciated the company.’
‘I think so,’ Will replies, with a small smile that makes my heart do that twinge thing again.
Will reclines on his lounger. He lowers his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose and looks at me over the top of the frames. ‘Nat, I’m sorry if I freaked you out. I didn’t mean to come on strong,’ he says sincerely, his voice lowered, even though Mohammed has headed back inside the hotel and we’re the only guests by the pool.
‘You held my hand, it was hardly coming on strong!’ I joke, even though it’s obvious to both of us that it did freak me out. ‘It’s not even first base!’ I add.
‘You still ran away though!’ Will points out, laughing a little awkwardly.
The sun is beginning to dip in the sky, taking on a warm golden hue. It looks beautiful between the palm trees – an exotic dreamy sight that’s completely at odds with the confusing swirl of feelings going on inside me. I close my book and place it on the table beside me, turning closer to Will.
‘I know, I’m sorry,’ I tell him, reflecting his sincere gaze. ‘It’s just, things went so badly wrong with my ex, and ever since then, I’ve been so focused on taking care of myself and Hera. I’ve been trying to heal and be a good mum to her and I guess I’ve become so protective of our little bubble, that allowing anyone in, even just a little bit, completely freaks me out.’
Will nods sympathetically. ‘I know, I shouldn’t have done anything.’ He sighs, clearly feeling guilty.
‘Don’t feel bad, Will. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not your fault I’m completely weird about this stuff!’ I let him know. ‘I’m probably over-thinking everything, and I can’t think of a way to say this without sounding weird and bunny-boilerish, but I don’t know how you feel. I mean, are you just looking for a holiday romance? A bit of fun? Or what …?’ I ask in as casual a tone as possible, even though I don’t feel particularly casual at all.
‘I’m not just looking for a bit of fun, Natalie!’ Will scoffs at the idea.
I feel an instant sense of relief, which quickly morphs into panic. If he’s not looking for a bit of fun, that means he’s looking for something serious and even though that is the answer I wanted to hear, I hadn’t bargained for it.
‘I wasn’t looking for some random fling, but I shouldn’t have tried anything,’ Will says. ‘I care about you and yes, I do still have feelings, but I really didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or confuse you or anything. This is our holiday. We’re here to relax and I don’t want to mess that up for you.’ Will smiles sweetly, looking genuinely contrite, even though he has nothing to feel guilty about. He knows what he wants more than I do and there’s nothing wrong with that.
‘Thanks, Will. You haven’t messed anything up though,’ I explain, not wanting him to feel bad. ‘It’s not your fault I’m like this. When you held my hand, a huge part of me wanted to hold yours back! I wanted to do more than just hold your hand, but then I started thinking about Hera and everything else. You’re not just some random guy, you’re you! If we got together and it’s likely more than a holiday romance, then I need to give that serious thought. Hera’s dad already abandoned her before she was even born, I’m scared of getting involved with someone else and then things not working out. It’s not just me that would be affected. I mean, I don’t even know how you feel about kids!’
Even as the words leave my mouth, I’m aware of how ridiculous they sound. All Will’s done is try to hold my hand and I’m asking him how he feels about kids. It’s so embarrassing, and if it were any other guy, he’d be running for the hills right now, but Will seems to be taking it all in his stride. He’s taking all of my concerns on board and I can tell from the thoughtful, pensive expression on his face that he’s giving my questions serious consideration, despite how weird they might sound to a regular guy.
‘Honestly, I didn’t used to think I wanted kids,’ Will admits. ‘When I was with Elsa, neither of us were particularly keen, but I think that was more because we both knew deep down that we might not last and the last thing we needed to do was add a kid to that.’ A flicker of sadness passes over Will’s face and I can tell that he’s not just the carefree 16-year-old he used to be. In some ways, he reminds me exactly of his old self, but it’s clear that his own relationship has caused him to develop a more reflective, sensitive side.
‘Since Elsa and I broke up, I’ve thought about family a lot more. I’ve been back home, and for the first time in years, I’ve been looking at all the photo albums of my dad, of us back when I was a kid. I hadn’t been able to look at them before, it was just too painful, but I finally did it. At first it was really tough, but then the sadness gave way to a sense of just cherishing what we had. My dad was a great dad and my childhood was amazing. You look at pictures of your dad playing football with you, or your mum pushing you on a swing or the pair of them holding you as a baby, beaming with happiness, and you just realise that family is the most meaningful, purest thing,’ Will says.
‘It really is,’ I agree, having come to the exact same conclusion through having Hera. In our own completely different ways, Will and I have arrived at the same understanding.
The sun is growing even more orange, a fiery shade, as it dips lower in the sky. Will’s words are certainly reassuring, it’s good to know that he feels the same way about family as I do, and I’m glad he doesn’t sound like he’s going to just mess me around, but I still feel a little unnerved.
‘I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything. We’re on this holiday together and I don’t want to make it awkward. I just got swept up in the moment,’ Will explains.
Swept up in the moment? His words snag a little.
‘That’s the problem though,’ I sigh, feeling a flicker of doubt and uncertainty creeping back in. ‘What if this whole honeymoon thing has ended up making us feel romantic? What if all the romantic vibes have got to you?’
Will laughs. ‘Are you saying the fake honeymoon brainwashed me?’ he jokes.
I laugh with him, even though I don’t think it’s entirely out of the question. ‘I guess so! It’s a possibility, isn’t it?’
‘Nat, I still have a picture you drew of me when we were 15. I went to Mick’s fundraiser just on the off-chance of getting to chat to you. You were my first love. I haven’t been brainwashed by a Congratulations cake and some rose petals in a fancy honeymoon suite!’
My heart lurches in my chest. Will seems completely sincere, but there’s still a small part of me that’s worried something might happen over here in Marrakech where everything is beautiful and magical, and then we’ll get back to Chiddingfold, return to real life and the sparkle might wear off.
‘Okay! But I just think we should take things slowly,’ I suggest. ‘Maybe we should just do something completely unromantic, just to make sure that all this honeymoon stuff hasn’t got to us.’
‘Something completely unromantic. What are you suggesting?’ Will raises an eyebrow.
‘I don’t know!’ I shrug. ‘Just something normal. Something that isn’t honeymoonish.’
‘Like what?’ Will asks.
‘I don’t know, trekking or something?’ I suggest. ‘Didn’t you want to go trekking and see the “real Marrakech”? Let’s do that!’
‘Trekking? Are you sure? I thought you wanted to lounge by the pool and stuff?’
I shrug. ‘I can do that when we get back. If we still have feelings after trekking together up the Atlas Mountains together, then maybe this thing is for real.’
‘Okay,’ Will laughs. ‘I never thought I’d have to climb a mountain just to hold your hand!’ he teases.
I hold out my hand, which still has a greenish mark where my fake wedding ring sits. ‘It’ll be worth it!’ I insist wryly.
‘We’ll see!’ Will jokes with
a cheeky grin.
Chapter 17
Stripping down and being slathered in oil is probably the last thing Will and I should be doing right now, but apparently, a honeymoon package at a five-star hotel wouldn’t be complete without a couple’s massage.
Just as Will and I were ready to don our hiking boots and venture into the great outdoors, we realised we had a massage booked at the hotel’s spa – a traditional Moroccan hamman – and felt it would seem a bit ungrateful to just cancel it. So here we are, awkwardly following a spa therapist down a gently lit corridor lined with tea lights towards a treatment room where we’re about to experience a traditional full body scrub.
I honestly thought the hotel couldn’t get any better, but the hammam is incredible. Tucked away at the back of the hotel behind a brushed brass door, it’s an oasis of calm and tranquillity. The walls are a gentle gold shade, lit by candles nestled in alcoves. The light is low and soft. The air smells zesty, like oranges and the only sound is the trickling of water from a fountain. I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven as one of the therapists guides me and Will down a corridor towards our treatment room.
‘This is your treatment room,’ she says, gesturing for us to go through a door at the end of the corridor.
She holds it open and we step inside. I’m expecting a serene, relaxing room like the one pictured on the voucher, but this couldn’t be any more different. It looks like a dungeon. It’s nearly pitch-black, the air is thick with steam, and the walls are lumpy and dark like coal. They glisten with wetness in the faint silvery light of a small overhead lamp.
‘Please undress and place your underwear and gowns here.’ The therapist gestures at an alcove in the lumpy wall. ‘Then take a seat and relax, the steam will open your pores and then your scrub will begin. Enjoy,’ she says, smiling sweetly before shutting the door.
‘What the …’ I look towards Will, who seems equally perplexed as he takes in the dungeon-like room.
‘Are we meant to just … get naked?’ I balk.
‘I think so,’ Will replies, eyes wide.
‘We can’t do that!’ I reply.
‘I know. What shall we do?’
‘I can’t believe we’re meant to just sit here, naked!’ I balk.
‘It’s not very English, is it?’
It’s only then that I realise we’re both whispering.
‘It’s not very English at all,’ I reply, glumly.
‘Well, we’re not in England, are we? I guess this is how they do it in Morocco,’ Will says.
‘I thought this was a conservative country,’ I grumble.
A smile plays on Will’s lips. ‘It is, but I don’t think women wear their hijabs when they’re in the spa,’ he says.
‘Damn it,’ I mutter. ‘What are we going to do?’’
We stand there, facing each other in our dressing gowns. It’s getting hot under my robe and I can feel my body growing slick with sweat.
‘I guess as far as they’re concerned, we’re married, so why on earth would we be uncomfortable with getting naked in front of each other,’ Will points out.
‘Oh my God,’ I groan. ‘So what you’re saying is we now have to get completely starkers to keep up the façade of being married?’
‘I’m not saying we have to, but it would look a bit weird if we didn’t! I don’t know. We could just say we don’t want to do the treatment …’
I contemplate that for a moment, but how ungrateful and weirdly uptight would we look if we just suddenly turn around and tell the spa that we don’t want the traditional full body scrub?
‘How about we just get naked, but don’t look at each other?’ I suggest.
‘Okay, I suppose,’ Will replies.
‘Which one of us is going to get naked first?’ I ask, feeling a little anxious.
‘Ladies first!’
‘Let’s both do it.’
‘Okay fine,’ Will replies.
We both turn and face the wall, our backs to each other. This is so awkward. Getting a fake wedding ring and faking a wedding snap was one thing, but whipping my clothes off makes that stuff look like child’s play. I tentatively pull my robe from my shoulders. It already feels good to remove the fabric from my clammy skin. I glance over at Will, feeling unnerved about exposing my breasts. He’s removed his robe and I immediately get an eyeful of butt cheek as he pulls his boxers down.
‘Natalie! You’re not meant to look!’ Will cries, catching me glancing over.
‘Sorry! I wasn’t checking you out! I was just checking you were actually doing it,’ I explain.
‘Yes, I’ve actually done it!’ Will cups his hands over his groin. ‘Unlike some.’
He walks over to the bench at the side of the room and sits down. ‘Stop staring at me, Nat. I can feel your eyes on my bum!’
‘I wasn’t!’ I insist, even though I totally was. I wasn’t meaning to perve on him, even though he does have a nice arse. My gaze just sort of followed him. ‘Sorry, I won’t look.’
‘Good,’ Will replies.
I steal one last glance at him to see him lying on the bench, still cupping his groin area.
I let the robe fall from my shoulders and place it on the shelf, before pulling my knickers off and wandering over to the opposite bench, while trying to cover my modesty with my hands. Will is lying on his back with his eyes closed. I sit down on the opposite bench and even though I do feel awkward, I can’t deny that the sensation of the hot steam drifting all over my naked body does feel nice.
‘You know, it’s really hard to cover yourself as a woman. Two hands just aren’t enough,’ I comment, as I struggle to cover my vagina and breasts.
Will looks over.
‘Oi! You’re not meant to look!’ I point out.
‘Well, don’t make conversation about your nakedness!’
I sigh, leaning back into the bench. ‘This is ridiculous,’ I comment, still attempting to conceal my breasts. ‘Are we just going to cup our private parts when the therapist comes in? We’ll look like the weirdest married couple ever.’
‘I know …’ Will admits.
‘Maybe we should just get it over and done with?’ I suggest. ‘Be naked together.’
‘Yeah, maybe,’ Will replies. He’s still holding his hands over his penis. ‘This does feel a bit silly. We should probably stop being such prudes.’
‘Yeah, exactly. Even though this is a far cry from how I imagined getting naked with you would be,’ I say, thinking aloud.
Will looks over, eyes wide. ‘How did you imagine getting naked with me would be?’
Oh God. ‘Erm.’ I grimace, kicking myself. ‘I guess I just imagined that if we did ever get naked together, it probably wouldn’t be in a Moroccan spa,’ I explain, trying to sound blasé, even though I’d always imagined that if Will and I got naked, it would be in the throes of passion. I’d imagined we’d tear each other’s clothes off. I didn’t think we’d be as awkward as this.
‘Okay, let’s just relax. Stop being so prudish,’ Will suggests, tentatively moving his hand away from his crotch.
‘Yeah, let’s do it.’
I slowly inch my arm away from breasts.
A silence passes between us.
‘So …’ I utter, staring at the ceiling. ‘We’re naked.’
‘Yep,’ Will replies. ‘Completely naked.’
‘Great!’
‘Great!’ Will echoes.
I glance over at him and there it is. His penis. Right there. Just out there. In plain sight. And I can see instantly how he got the nickname ‘the cruise ship’. As far as ships go, it’s a big one.
‘I can see your penis!’ I note.
Will laughs, looking over. ‘And I can see your breasts!’ he says.
I’m dying of mortification, but I try not to let it show. I watch as Will’s gaze drifts down my body and suck my stomach in. This is the first time anyone’s seen me naked since I gave birth to Hera in hospital, and even then I wasn’t properly naked since
I had a weird, flimsy smock thing on.
‘I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you have an amazing body, Natalie. If I were you, I’d be showing it off,’ Will says.
‘You’d be showing it off?’ I echo, surprised.
‘Yeah, you wear all these big baggy clothes. Those baggy jeans and massive T-shirts. I don’t see why you hide yourself. You have a great body. And you know what they say, if you’ve got it, flaunt it,’ Will comments.
I roll my eyes. ‘Firstly Will, you make me sound like a total scruff when you say baggy jeans and massive T-shirts. Those are boyfriend jeans and oversized T-shirts. They’re meant to be loose, that’s the fashion. And also, maybe I deliberately don’t flaunt my curves.’
‘You don’t need to flaunt them, but why would you deliberately not flaunt them?’ Will asks, his eyes still closed.
I consider his question as I lie down on the bench. The dark stone may look uninviting, but it’s surprisingly warm to the touch and as I spread my body over it, it feels nice against my skin. Now that I’m lying on my back, Will can’t exactly see my lady parts, but I’m still holding my forearm over my breasts.
‘Well, perhaps I just don’t want men to be salivating over my boobs,’ I reply.
‘We’re not all Neanderthals. We can admire your figure without salivating,’ Will remarks.
‘Well, fine, but I don’t dress for men’s admiration. I just wear what I want to wear.’
‘Fair enough,’ Will replies simply.
A silence passes between us. ‘I’m just saying, you do have a great figure, one that’s definitely worthy of admiration, not that I want to admire it. At least not in a sleazy way,’ Will blurts out.
‘Oh God, Will just stop talking.’ I laugh, letting my arm fall from my breasts. I gaze up at the dark ceiling, before sensing Will’s eyes on me. I turn to look at him and catch him gazing at my naked body. He quickly looks away.
‘Will!’ I tut.
‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘But wow …’
‘Wow?’ I echo as it dawns on me that Will is the first guy who’s seen my naked post-baby body. ‘Wow’ isn’t a bad reaction. And neither is the awestruck way he said it.