I can feel Eddie’s thigh twitching against mine.
‘Are you sure everything’s OK?’ I turn to face Eddie, and he bites his lip.
‘Yes, fine,’ he snaps. ‘I need another drink.’ He jumps up and stalks off towards the bar. My heart sinks.
‘What’s going on with him?’ Ciaran throws himself down next to me.
‘I don’t know, but Eddie is really uptight, and it’s not like him,’ I reply. He must know something, I feel sure. The uneasy feeling threatens again.
‘Maybe the stress of working for that ballbuster Maxine is really getting to him,’ Ciaran says, sounding concerned.
‘Maybe,’ I reply, distractedly. I think about work … and James. God, I wish he was here, and then I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness that our friendship has been ruined by a romance that barely got off the starting blocks. Maybe there’s a chance to fix it when I get back. I cling on to this thought as Melissa the self-appointed organiser takes to the floor.
‘Now, if you could all be quiet for a second, you’ll see that on the front of the T-shirt is your name, but the important bit is on the back, that old adage that we all know and lurrrrrve …’ She pauses for a second and sticks her arms out, as if she’s about to start conducting an orchestra.
We all shout back in unison with her, ‘What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.’ Melissa is standing in the middle of the lounge clutching her T-shirt with both hands so we can see the slogan. She starts throwing the shirts out one by one. Mrs Grace stuffs hers into her shopper, not even bothering to look at it, and mine is the tiniest scrap of cotton Lycra mix I think I’ve ever seen.
‘Where did you find this one, Melissa, in Childrenswear?’ I yell, but she’s distracted by the door opening. ‘Ahh, nice of you to join us, lads. Only an hour late,’ Melissa says as two guys from Menswear saunter in, followed by a bloke from Home Electricals, two security guards and Charles, looking cool in a big woolly Rasta hat and leather jacket. They do lots of high fives and fist thumps before stacking their holdalls up in a mountain by the door. She hands them their T-shirts.
Melissa and one of the security guards are having a pretend boxing match when Amy, Carrington’s HR manager, walks in wearing an orange tabard and holding a clipboard.
‘OK, is everyone here now?’ She calls our names out, ticking them off as we answer. My heart sinks when she inadvertently calls James’s name and there’s a short silence followed by a monotone, ‘He changed sessions. My mistake’ from Eddie, who has just returned from the bar with another Red Bull. Turns out Maxine delegated the task of divvying up the names for each session to him and he forgot to scrub James off the list. ‘Great. Here’s a schedule for each of you. Early start tomorrow morning, nine sharp, here in reception. Tonight you can do your own thing … all part of the board’s aim for you to have some downtime and build teams.’ She grins. ‘Studies have shown that employees who play together, work hard together … so play nicely! I’m in room 109 should you need anything. I’ll hand you over now to DeWayne and Vince from “Train to Gain”. They’ll be co-ordinating the event for us.’
A couple of overly enthusiastic guys, wearing camouflage trousers and extra-tight muscle tops with whistles on ropes around their necks, and an assortment of camping-type paraphernalia slung about their bodies, bounce into the centre of the room.
‘What’s that whistle for?’ Mrs Grace pipes up, pointing at Vince with one of her knitting needles.
‘Oh, err … just in case we need to get everyone’s attention,’ he replies, looking a bit fazed.
‘Hmmm. I’m here to have a nice rest, not wriggle commando-style under one of those filthy nets you boot-camp boys are so fond of. Not with my hip playing up the way it is,’ she huffs. I catch her eye and she gives me a wink before getting back to her knitting.
‘Don’t worry, err …’ Vince pauses.
‘Mrs Grace to you,’ she sniffs.
‘Yes, Mrs Grace, we won’t be doing anything too arduous. We’ll be spending most of the time in the hotel conference room … with the occasional break-out session in the hotel garden.’ There’s a collective groan from the Bedding girls. ‘But we’ll fill you in tomorrow morning. See you all then.’ They both wave before throwing their hands up in the air and clapping furiously above their heads as they practically march off towards the door.
‘Crap! I thought it would be tug-of-war and sudden death games. You know, like proper team building … where one team wins and the other one is destroyed!’ Melissa says, before making a wanker sign towards the door. ‘Nobbers!’ she heckles. ‘Looks like we’ll just have to make the best of it. But in the meantime you heard what Amy said – teams that play hard and all that … sooo, it’s off to the dance floor.’ She makes a big Elvis-style circle with her right arm. ‘Let’s check out the rooms and meet back here later. We can go to the pier. Something for everyone on there,’ she bellows.
‘Oh, not for me dear. I’m not missing Strictly. And I’m looking forward to an early night with my dinner cooked for me, for a change,’ Mrs Grace says.
‘I’ll join you,’ Betty puffs, wiping her top lip with a tissue.
‘But I’ve booked us a room in the karaoke bar at the end of the pier. It’s going to be a scream.’ Melissa rubs her hands together as if she can’t wait to get started.
‘You youngsters will have much more fun without us old biddies holding you up.’ Mrs Grace is already stowing her knitting inside her shopper and reaching for the room service menu.
‘OK. Well everyone else has to come then. Be there or be square, as they say.’
*
My room is in a converted old carriage block through a walkway at the back of the main hotel, so after dropping my room card into the slot of the lock, I push the door open and make my way into the bedroom with its beautifully designed array of chocolate, baby blue and caramel-coloured soft furniture. Kicking my ballet pumps, top and skinny jeans off, I lie back on the bed and my mind starts wandering. I feel sad. This damn revamp. And damn Maxine, stirring things up and distorting the facts. She probably did it on purpose, delighting in telling James how well I’ve been cultivating Malikov’s business.
Thinking of Malikov makes me cringe. Well, Maxine is welcome to him. I just hate it that she has another secret on me. I vow to talk to James as soon as I get back. I have to try again to make him see that I didn’t do it on purpose. That he can trust me. I have to at least try.
Swinging my legs down onto the floor, I get up and go over to my suitcase and grab my toiletry bag. I push the bathroom door open and the lights come on automatically. I spot the hospitality box hidden behind a brochure advertising a variety of special Valentine-themed getaways. It’s black lacquered wood and crammed full of goodies. The special monogrammed toiletries smell divine, fruity like peaches and cream with a twist of citrus. There’s even a plastic case of assorted nail enamels that would look great on my dressing table at home. I wonder if anyone would notice if they disappeared into my suitcase. At the very bottom, discreetly placed under a packet of strong mints, is a box of extra-pleasure condoms. Hmm, I won’t be needing those. My throat tightens and the sadness over James returns.
I wander back out of the bathroom and scan the room. There’s an impressive minibar stocked with chocolate, various different nut selections and every alcoholic beverage one could desire. The sight of three red mini-tubes of Pringles makes me weaken and I lift out a tub and peel back the silver foil. Savouring the taste, I walk over to the other side of the room. There’s a huge wardrobe almost covering the length of one wall. I pull open the doors with my free hand, one, two, three … they’re all the same. Rows of wooden hangers mingled in with a few pastel-pink satin-covered soft ones. There’s an ironing board and a few spare blankets. I grab at the fourth door. It’s another bedroom. Of course, the adjoining room. James must have forgotten to cancel it.
I can’t resist having a peek inside and, seeing as the others are all over in the main part of the hotel, I decide t
o risk it. The room is a mirror image of mine, only with a different colour scheme, emerald green and chocolate brown. I tiptoe over to the bed and gaze down at it, thinking of what might have been if James was here. After peeping over my shoulder towards the door to check nobody is coming, I sit down. I pop another Pringle into my mouth and swing my legs over until I’m lying down. I gaze up at the ceiling; the crunching noise in my ears is deafening against the silence of the room. I close my eyes and let my mind drift off for a second, wishing our friendship wasn’t ruined.
‘What are you doing?’ My eyes snap open with panic, and the Pringles cascade down onto the floor as I throw myself up into a standing position.
‘Jesus, you scared the living daylights out of me,’ I screech.
I’m standing by the side of the bed in my oldest, greyest bra, which many years ago used to be white, and my extra-comfortable-for-travelling, big red-and-white cow-print knickers that have the words ‘Cheeky Cow’ emblazoned across the back. Tom is standing right in front of me.
I clutch the Pringles tube to my chest like a miniature comfort blanket. My heart is pounding and panic is swirling through me like a baby tsunami.
‘I didn’t mean to startle you,’ he replies, managing to look amused and concerned all at the same time. I open my mouth but the words won’t come out. I have to get back to my room. I drop the Pringles tube and leg it as fast as I can, slamming the adjoining door behind me.
Back in my room, and I’m trembling all over with the shock and shame of the too-close encounter. I pull off the manky underwear and ram it into the rubbish bin before flinging open the door to the minibar and grabbing two Jack Daniel’s miniatures. I run into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Feeling mortified, I guzzle one whiskey after the other, fling an enormous white fluffy towel around my body and punch out Sam’s number.
‘What’s the matter?’ In between hiccups I describe the moment of horror to her. ‘OH MY GOD. OH MY ACTUAL GOD …’ She keeps shrieking it over and over. ‘He’s there. How exciting … well, he’ll certainly take your mind off James,’ she giggles. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but look, keep calm, it’s not that bad.’
Not that bad? It’s a total embarrassment, off the scale even by my standards.
‘It’s horrendous,’ I manage to say, dramatically, before letting out another ricochet of hiccups. I put my phone down beside the bath and, pinching my nose, I hold my breath for a count of five in a desperate attempt to steady my breathing.
‘Are you still there?’ Sam’s voice trills out from the phone. I pick it back up.
‘Yes, just trying to clear these bloody hiccups.’ I hiccup again.
‘Oh dear, it must be bad,’ Sam giggles, remembering how this happened at school whenever I got totally overwhelmed.
‘Bloody right it is. I have to spend the whole night here with him in the next room thinking I’m some kind of lunatic stalker woman with a fetish for themed knickers,’ I say, and burst into a fit of nervous laughter, punctuated by more hiccups. Sam is laughing too, and for a moment neither of us can talk. I can’t believe I’ve made such a show of myself in front of him – yet again. ‘Oh God,’ I groan, as fresh waves of mortification wash over me.
Sam is the first to recover.
‘Right! Fetish woman, get yourself together, and if Tom says anything about, the … err, encounter,’ she pauses momentarily to have another chuckle, ‘then, like I always tell you, just laugh it off.’
‘Laugh it off?’ I say, incredulously. ‘Oh Tom, I just love prancing around in other people’s bedrooms in my manky underwear, it’s such a hoot.’ We both chortle again, with me venturing into hysteria territory.
‘Well, you could always pretend you don’t know anything about it. Like you were sleepwalking or something.’ There’s a short silence. ‘I know! Tell him you have narcolepsy.’ We both crack up laughing again.
‘But I was still in his bloody bedroom and I shouted at him for startling me, so that’s not going to work, is it?’
‘Well, just brave it out. But don’t – whatever you do – apologise. He probably couldn’t believe his luck in any case.’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous. He’s probably on the phone to Maxine right now, telling her what an idiot I am, and to bin me as soon as she’s got enough sales commission out of me.’
‘Hardly. Stop being so paranoid.’
‘I can’t. Ever since she turned up, my nerves have been all over the place.’ I let out a feeble laugh.
‘Well, you deserve a bit of fun then … and it was only a couple of dates with James. And I have to say that he wasn’t exactly slow in condemning you, was he?’ I mull over what she’s said, and I know that she has a point. I’m just not sure I’m quite ready to hear it.
‘Oh, I don’t know, part of me thinks that James just needs more time, he’s bound to be suspicious and unwilling to trust after what he’s been through with his wife cheating, but Tom … well, he’s sooo hot, but he’s shagging Maxine.’ I pause to fantasise about him for a bit, he really is gorgeous. ‘But whenever he and I are alone there’s a spark … something. I don’t know what the game is.’ There’s a silence while I try and work it out. ‘Listen to me, like I even stand a chance with him,’ I say, rapidly coming to my senses. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t say much about my loyalty if I just turn my attentions to Tom now.’
‘But you don’t owe James anything, and so what if Maxine and Tom have got some stupid game going on? Personally I don’t think so. No, I think you’re letting your paranoia get the better of you. You fancy the pants off him, so just go for it. Grab him with both hands … one on each bum cheek,’ she urges. ‘You never know, he could be your Valentine date, imagine that?’ And for a brief moment I try, but the thought is just so ridiculous I can’t even seem to get an image of it in my head.
‘Have you finally gone mad?’ I laugh, trying to change the subject.
‘Well, think about it at least. Anyway, how do you know he’s shagging Maxine? I’ll ask Nathan.’ And before I can shout ‘NOOO!’ I hear her muffled voice quizzing him. My insides churn – what if it gets back to Tom that I’ve been asking about him? The shame of it. ‘Right, Nathan says that as far as he knows he’s not a player. A true gentleman, apparently. But then he only knows him from the club … but he agrees with me, and I say just go for it.’
‘Stop it. I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation,’ I say, wishing I’d never mentioned it.
‘Remember what I said about James, and I was right then, wasn’t I?’
‘Yes. But that was totally different. He was happily married, or so I thought, and besides he asked me out. And we’ve been friends for ages.’
‘OK. So next time you’re alone with Tom … well, just try flirting a bit.’ There’s a scratchy sound, as if Sam has dropped the phone, but then I hear her telling Nathan that it’s ‘girls’ talk’. ‘Sorry about that, I don’t want him hearing my seduction secrets,’ she laughs.
‘So are you having a good weekend?’ I ask, keen to change the subject.
‘Faab-u-lous.’ I hear Sam squealing, followed by a squelchy sound that I guess to be Nathan’s lips. ‘Georgie, I have to go. But try to have fun. And remember … one on each cheek!’
The line goes dead. For a few minutes I ponder on everything Sam said. The idea is ludicrous. But perhaps I am just being paranoid – even Eddie seems to think so. I allow myself a moment to indulge in fantasising about Tom, before dragging myself back to reality. He’s probably in his room right now, laughing his head off.
25
The hotel lounge is deserted when I eventually make it back down, but then I am half an hour late.
‘Can you tell me which way the pier is, please?’ I ask a passing uniformed girl, figuring it won’t be too hard to catch up with the others, given the size of the group.
‘Sure, I’ll show you on a tourist map. We have some behind the reception desk.’
‘Thanks,’ I say, wondering if anyone woul
d notice if I sloped off home instead. It’s a miserable day outside. All grey sky with bruised-looking clouds.
‘It’s OK. I know the way.’ It’s Tom, and he must be standing right behind me. My face freezes, and then panic swirls through me. Blooming typical. I brace myself, waiting for him to say something about earlier, desperately willing my cheeks to stop burning. I swallow hard and remember Sam’s advice to brave it out before turning around. But it’s no use … the minute I see his gorgeous smiling face, I crumble.
‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, nerves making me sound ridiculously shrill. I cringe. His name definitely wasn’t down on the list. Looking taken aback, he hesitates before answering.
‘I thought I’d wait for you. You don’t mind do you?’
‘No, no, I … I guess not.’
‘Great.’ He smiles. ‘Let’s make our way over to the crazy golf then. The others were heading there first,’ he says, cheerfully, gesturing for me to lead the way. I force my legs into action and head over towards the exit, willing my cheeks to stop burning. I’m speechless, and his coolness throws me. It’s as if my utterly embarrassing performance in his bedroom never happened.
We make it to the promenade and manage to find the crazy golf, but the others aren’t there.
‘You OK?’ Tom asks.
‘Sure, why wouldn’t I be?’
‘No reason. You’re very quiet, that’s all. You barely said a word on the way here.’
‘Well, you walk very fast,’ I say, trying not to gasp as I rest my elbow on a nearby wall. It was all I could do to keep up with him, let alone hold a coherent conversation too. Besides, I’m not entirely convinced I want to talk to him, if he’s in cahoots with Maxine.
‘Oh, you should have said. Sorry,’ he says, obliviously.
‘Never mind. Look, they’re obviously not here, let’s go,’ I say, turning to leave.
‘Ahh. But it would be a shame not to have a game at least,’ he says, smiling and making a pleading face.
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