‘I accepted his proposal without a moment’s hesitation,’ Marcie gushed, looking into Engelbert’s eyes like some simpering, love-sick teenager. ‘We’re getting married! As soon as we get back home we’re going to start planning the wedding.’ She turned to look at Aimee and Jemma, who could do nothing but sit there and stare in stunned shock. ‘And you two will be chief bridesmaids, of course.’
‘Of course,’ Aimee repeated, too taken aback to string any other kind of sentence together.
‘Did you say you’re marrying this man?’
Everyone turned round at the sound of Brendon’s booming Irish voice as he made his way over to the table, a look of horror mixed with shock and disappointment all over his face.
‘Brendon… I know you and I have had fun together, but…’
‘Oh, Jesus,’ Aimee groaned, grabbing Jemma’s hand and pulling her up out of her seat. ‘Time for us to go, Jem. Come on.’
‘You always do this when things are just starting to get interesting.’
‘Marcie, me darling, this man is no good for you. Look at him, he’s nothing but a smarmy, lanky, streak of…’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Engelbert gasped, standing up and stretching himself to his full height (which was still a good few inches shorter than Brendon), as Marcie fell immediately into the role of the fought-after woman, flapping her multi-coloured-sleeved arms about as she tried to stop the two men in her life from facing off.
‘I can’t sit and watch this,’ Aimee said, almost dragging Jemma out of the Clipper Bar. ‘That is one surreal love triangle I have absolutely no desire to get involved with. It’s like some weird, middle-aged version of Pretty in Pink. I’ll deal with my mam and this ridiculous engagement tomorrow, but right now, I need a drink. And a large one at that.
*
Danny almost breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her walk into Revival, looking beautiful – if not a touch stressed – in a black, knee-length dress and strappy sandals, her blond hair hanging loose in soft curls around her shoulders. He’d seen her in the crowd during the show, sitting at her usual table, and it had taken all the strength he’d had not to sing almost every song on that night’s set list directly to her, because, as far as he was concerned, there’d been nobody else in the room.
‘I’m gonna love you and leave you, guys,’ Danny said, pushing a hand through his dark hair as he stood up, ready to leave the rest of them to it.
‘Be careful, Dan,’ Andy said, with more than a hint of warning to his tone, which Danny didn’t miss.
‘What the… Y’know what? Forget it. Whatever, Andy. Whatever,’ he muttered, walking away from the table before he said something he’d regret. Andy Crabtree might be unfinished business, but tonight wasn’t the night to tie up those loose ends.
He joined Aimee at the bar just as she was knocking back a flaming Sambuca shot.
‘You looked like you needed that,’ he said, slightly amused. You see? Less than two seconds in her company and once again she was already making him forget that twat Crabtree.
Aimee looked at him, unable to say anything for a few seconds as the burning liquid slid down her throat. ‘Like you wouldn’t bloody believe,’ she finally replied, turning briefly to the barman, smiling her thanks as he handed her a Tequila Sunrise – today’s Cocktail of the Day on the MS Atlantica.
‘Something you want to talk about?’ Danny asked, watching with more amusement as she took an extremely large mouthful of her newly-acquired drink.
‘No, thank you,’ she coughed, realising too late that she’d drank that last mouthful just a little too fast. And that probably hadn’t been the most lady-like of things to do in front of a man you were still trying hard to impress. ‘It’s just my mam being my mam . I’ll deal with it tomorrow.’
‘You sure?’ Danny smiled.
‘Oh, yeah. I’m sure.’ She looked at him, taking a smaller, slightly more demure sip of her cocktail. ‘You look a touch stressed yourself. Everything okay?’
‘Yeah,’ Danny replied, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. ‘I’m fine. We’re just celebrating our performance tonight. I thought we did quite well, y’know, but it’d be good to hear what a true fan thought.’
‘I think the rest of the band are already having that question answered by the biggest fans you guys have got,’ Aimee smirked, indicating over to where more than a handful of Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade members were busy draping themselves over Ross, Frankie, Andy and Cal, until Jemma arrived, wielding her new leather handbag at a dark haired woman who’d parked herself firmly on Cal’s knee. ‘Looks like you had a lucky escape,’ Aimee smiled, turning back to face Danny.
‘Yeah. And lucky is the operative word,’ Danny said, moving closer to Aimee, so close she could smell his Cool Water aftershave, and it was all she could do not to grab him right there and then and throw him over the bar. ‘I’ve got a beautiful woman come to rescue me.’
‘Who says I’ve come to rescue you?’ she smiled, sliding a hand round the back of his neck, his arm snaking round her waist, pulling her gently against him. ‘I might have only come in here for a quick drink, I mean; I’ve never really been one for nightclubs.’
‘Funnily enough, neither have I.’
‘Oh, you are such a liar,’ Aimee laughed, gently pushing him away as she took another sip of her cocktail. ‘All those times you were pictured falling out of bars and clubs… I’m sure nobody forced you into those places.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ Danny murmured, leaning back against the bar, folding his arms. ‘Listen, do you want to get out of here? Because I’ve got a feeling it’s only going to get a whole lot messier before the night’s out.’
Aimee looked over towards Bon Voyage’s table in the corner. Jemma had managed to fend off the member of the Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade who’d been moving in on Cal and had quickly taken her place on his knee as Andy, Ross and Frankie – who was currently being shown someone’s photo album whilst draped in a Bon Voyage 1993 European Tour scarf – continued to ward off the harmless but quite overbearing attention of their most ardent fans.
‘Yeah. You might be right there.’ Aimee winked at Jemma, who gave her a big “thumbs up” from her position on the lap of Cal Connor, who didn’t look too disappointed to have her sitting there, although the same couldn’t be said for the two rather sour-faced Barmy Bon Voyage Brigade members who were hovering behind Cal’s chair aiming “death stares” at the back of Jemma’s head.
‘Hemingway’s?’ Danny asked.
Aimee turned to look at him, smiling. ‘Hemingway’s.’
*
Hemingway’s was like a haven of peace and calm after the madness of her mother’s ridiculous engagement announcement and the craziness of the goings on in Revival. In fact, after the day she’d had, Aimee was more than happy just to sit back and chill out with a bottle of wine. And Danny. Danny Johnson. Danny bloody Johnson! She still couldn’t quite get her head around exactly what was happening with the whole situation she now found herself in, but after the most magical afternoon in Barcelona she was the happiest she’d felt in a long, long time. Well, two months, actually. She was the happiest she’d been in two months, since that bastard Robbie Cartwright had… No! She wasn’t going to think about him anymore. She didn’t need to, did she? Not now she had Danny. But, did she have Danny?
‘Here we go,’ Danny smiled, placing a bottle of red wine and two glasses down on the table before sitting down beside her. ‘You look miles away. Everything okay?’
She smiled at him. ‘It’s just been a long day, that’s all.’
‘You enjoyed yourself though, didn’t you? I mean, we had a great time, didn’t we?’
‘Oh, God, yes. Yes. Danny, it was the best day, believe me. One of the best days of my life, actually. Mind you, if I’m being honest, this whole cruise has been a blast. And I so needed this holiday. I really, really needed this holiday.’
He reached out and took her hand, smiling that killer smile as his thumb st
roked her fingers. ‘Why, Aimee? What’s happened to make you really need this holiday, I mean.’
Aimee looked down at their joined hands, not really wanting to spoil the mood by talking about Robbie, but maybe it was what she needed to do – to finally put that part of her life to rest.
‘My fiancé – he dumped me. Two months ago. At our engagement party.’
Danny’s eyes widened. ‘You’re kidding me? He dumped you at your engagement party? Jesus, Aimee… what a bastard!’
‘Tell me about it,’ Aimee sighed, pulling her hand away from Danny’s so she could root around in her bag for a tissue because she could feel stupid tears start to prick the back of her eyes and the last thing she wanted to do today was cry. Not over this, not over Robbie – again. She was in the process of forgetting all about him, and that was all thanks to Danny.
‘Are you okay?’ Danny asked, sensing this wasn’t a subject she was altogether comfortable talking about.
‘I’m fine,’ Aimee sniffed, blowing her nose as discreetly as she could. ‘I guess the memory still stings a bit, that’s all.’
Danny sat back in his seat, quite unable to believe that somebody could do something so callous as to dump someone on the night of their engagement party. Especially someone as kind and as beautiful as Aimee.
‘I suppose you think I’m on some kind of rebound now, don’t you?’ Aimee said. ‘I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you did…’
‘I don’t think that,’ Danny smiled. ‘I don’t think you’re on the rebound.’
Aimee looked at him as she asked him the next question. ‘And what about you?’
Danny said nothing for a few seconds, his blue eyes staring right into hers, and he’d never felt more sure of an answer before in his life. ‘I’m not on any kind of rebound either.’
Aimee smiled, which in turn made him smile too.
‘You know, I think fate sent me on this cruise,’ Danny went on, reaching out for her hand again. ‘Because I very nearly didn’t come.’
‘Really?’ Aimee asked, raising her eyebrows. ‘Why not? Didn’t you want the band to get back together?’
‘I suppose a part of me did, yeah. But I was happy, y’know? With where I was and what I was doing. I mean, I wasn’t happy with my marriage, but I was sorting that out. I was happy with my life, though. All of that boy band stuff was behind me as far as I was concerned, and I can’t say I was too keen on seeing…’ He stopped mid-sentence, not really wanting to let Aimee know too much about the fractious relationship that still existed between himself and Andy. ‘But… if I hadn’t come here, if I hadn’t took that chance, I wouldn’t have met you, would I?’
She closed her eyes as he leaned forward, his mouth brushing ever-so-lightly over hers and it was all Aimee could do not to cry with utter happiness as her fairytale holiday continued to get better and better with every day that passed. Robbie Cartwright, you really are becoming nothing more than a fading memory now.
‘Do you believe in fate?’ Danny whispered, his mouth so very close to hers as he spoke.
‘I’ve never really given it much thought,’ Aimee replied, her breath quickening and her heart racing because just being near him was doing ridiculous things to her health now. She’d never really felt this way so soon about anyone before and it was making her both stupidly excited and incredibly nervous. ‘However…’ He kissed her again, his mouth soft yet firm against hers, and even though she was sitting down she could still feel her legs turn to jelly, ‘…I’m beginning to believe in it now.’
CRUISE DAY 8
Palma, Majorca – Disembarkation/Embarkation Day
11:45am
‘We’re officially halfway through our cruise,’ Jemma sighed as she and Aimee walked along the bustling streets of Majorca’s main city, the imposing sight of Palma Cathedral ahead of them. ‘Ooh, take a picture of me with the cathedral in the background, go on.’
Jemma proceeded to lean against a nearby palm tree in her best “model pose” as Aimee tried to get as much of the beautiful building in as she could whilst still capturing Jemma’s inimitable personality.
‘Let me see, let me see,’ Jemma squealed, tottering over in her white high-heeled sandals as Aimee showed her the image on the small camera screen.
‘Jemma, are you honestly going to be okay walking round in those heels all day?’
‘I’m nothing if not prepared, Aimee. I’ve got some flatties in my bag… Give me a look, come on.’
‘The cathedral looks stunning, doesn’t it?’ Aimee smirked, handing the camera to Jemma.
‘Are you saying I don’t?’ Jemma said in mock shock.
Aimee just shrugged and Jemma playfully pushed her in the direction of the palm tree she’d been leaning against.
‘Go on, Missy. I’ll take one of you, then you can give it to Dan the Man and he can carry it around with him everywhere he goes.’
Aimee leaned against the tree and stuck her tongue out at Jemma, who quickly clicked the camera, capturing the shot instantly.
‘Jemma!’ Aimee shouted, but she couldn’t help laughing. They were having such a great time on this holiday, and the fact they had another week left was something they were both grateful for. They were enjoying themselves far too much to go back to reality just yet.
The MS Atlantica was docked at the port in Majorca until 11pm that night because, although today may have been the halfway point for Jemma and Aimee and everybody else who’d booked a two week cruise, for others it was the day in which they had to disembark to travel back home, whilst for a whole new set of passengers it was the start of their holiday as they flew into Palma ready to join The Atlantica for their cruise around the Mediterranean.
But, with disembarkation/embarkation day turning out to be an extremely busy and chaotic day aboard the ship, Jemma and Aimee had decided to leave the boat behind and do some exploring for a few hours, catching a taxi just outside the port for the short journey into Palma. It was a city they’d both always wanted to visit, and they’d heard the shops weren’t too bad so, with another week’s worth of euros still left to spend, they were sure they could find something to amuse themselves with until it was time to head back to the ship.
‘They’ve still got a C&A here y’know,’ Jemma said, sliding the camera back into her bag as they continued to walk past the cathedral and into the city centre.
‘Really? Blimey. I haven’t seen one of those in ages. I thought they’d all but disappeared.’
‘Nope. Still got a few stores dotted around the world. Just none in the U.K. anymore.’
‘Have you been raiding Laugh-A-Minute-Lydia’s tour guide folder again?’
‘No. It’s common knowledge that is.’ Jemma linked her arm through Aimee’s as they headed towards the Placa d’Espanya on their way to Placa Major to check out the outdoor craft market and selection of shops, cafes and restaurants. It’d been a while since breakfast and Aimee was already starting to feel a little peckish. ‘Hey, have you seen your mam since last night’s shock announcement?’
‘No. And I’m sure she’s deliberately avoiding me because she knows what I’m going to say to her. Engaged to a man she met a week ago in the embarkation queue, have you ever heard anything so ridiculous in all your life… Oh, will you look at that? Another El Corte Ingles!’
‘I think we should eat first, shop later,’ Jemma said, consulting the map she was holding.
Aimee looked at her. ‘Are you feeling alright? I mean, when you put anything before shopping it usually means something’s wrong. You got a temperature? Let me feel your forehead.’
Jemma looked at Aimee, placing a hand on her hip, pursing her pale-pink-glossed lips slightly. ‘Am I really that transparent?’
‘Yeah. You are, actually.’
Jemma gently whacked Aimee with the map, both of them giggling as they walked past the entrance to the large department store.
‘Cheeky cow!’ Jemma laughed, looking down at the map again. ‘Come on. It’s this way to Pl
aca Major… Is that your phone beeping?’
‘Oh, yes. It is. Hang on.’ Aimee fished her phone out of her bag and checked the screen. It was a message – from Danny. She smiled, reading it through a couple of times before slipping the phone back into her bag.
‘I take it you’re not willing to share then?’ Jemma asked, a more-than-hopeful tone to her voice.
Aimee shook her head, unable to wipe the smile off her face.
‘Spoilsport,’ Jemma mumbled, linking arms again as they continued to walk through the beautiful, narrow streets of Palma’s old town. ‘I think it’s time for a drink, don’t you? Maybe after a couple of glasses of the local vino you might be willing to divulge a little more information.’
*
‘Listen to this!’ Jemma said, her voice taking on a rather excited tone as she perused yet more tourist information she’d picked up along the way as they’d walked through Majorca’s capital city on their way to the café they were now sitting in, ensconced at an outside table under the shade of a big umbrella enjoying more delicious tapas of chicken, peppers, chorizo and meatballs and a bottle of gorgeous local white wine. ‘There’s a street called – hang on, me Spanish pronunciation is rubbish – Carrer Sindicat, not far from here where, it says – and I quote – “the shoe shops seem to go on forever.” I might just have found my idea of heaven.’
Aimee finished off the last of the chorizo and washed it down with a mouthful of the fruity white wine, a perfect drink for a perfect Spanish summer’s day. ‘Like you need more shoes.’
Jemma looked at Aimee as though she’d just told her she had a spot the size of Mount Vesuvius on the tip of her nose. ‘You can never have too many shoes, Aimee.’
‘Yeah. You can,’ Aimee teased, because sometimes winding Jemma up could be so easy.
Jemma poked her tongue out, a gesture which Aimee quickly reciprocated, both of them falling into fits of giggles, until Aimee caught sight of something across the square that turned her laugh into a groan. ‘Oh, God. That’s all I need.’
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