We finally leave the shop with Helen’s purchases in some very posh bags, alongside my five-pence plastic carrier bags. Maybe one day I might treat myself to one extravagant purchase, just for the posh bag.
We chat on the way back about what trips we’d like to do on the cruise. I quite fancy anything that involves relaxing on a beach. The last few months have taken their toll on me. The counselling we had got Richard and me nowhere; our differences are irreconcilable. It all boils down to the fact that I want kids and he doesn’t, and neither of us will back down. I had an appointment with a solicitor this week and she’s going to put the wheels in motion for a divorce.
We pull up outside my two-bedroom townhouse. It will have to be sold. Neither Richard nor I can afford to buy the other out. It breaks my heart, thinking about all the work we’ve done on it to make it our home. I’ve still got photos of us scattered about the place, but Richard has already taken most of his clothes and belongings. I think a lot of his stuff ended up back at his parents’ place. His mate’s flat, where he’s living, is tiny. Helen wanted me to shred all his clothes like they do in the movies, but he got to them before I had the chance.
Helen and I have now done the compulsory chatting-for-ten-minutes-while-the-engine’s-running thing and she finally decides that she’d better make tracks. I get out of her little red sporty car and she pulls away. I wave her off and walk wearily to my door. My first job is going to be collapsing on the sofa with a cup of tea. Maybe later I’ll start putting those photos away.
Chapter 5
Helen
I’ve been out of the office so far this week, reviewing hotels in the Cotswolds, one of my favourite parts of the country. I love all those pretty cottages in quaint villages, surrounded by beautiful countryside. I’ve got the added bonus that I stay with my friend Jill when I’m in the area so we can have a good catch-up.
When I arrived at the office this morning, it was immediately apparent that there’s an atmosphere here that you could cut with a knife. I try to keep out of office politics so I’ve shut myself in my own office. Every now and again, I glance up and observe what’s happening through the glass. Everyone’s been going in and out of Daniel’s office. He’s the managing director of Loving Luxury Travel. I just heard raised voices and doors slamming; now, I’ve been summoned into the office for a ‘chat’.
I normally breeze in but today I’m apprehensive. I knock on his door before walking in and sitting down.
He’s obviously not in the mood for chit-chat and cuts straight to the chase. ‘You’ve probably noticed, Helen, that there have been a few staff members in my office today – in fact, all week. Perhaps I should have consulted with you sooner but I didn’t want to bother you in the Cotswolds. As you know, we’re expanding into villa rentals in Florida. They needed someone to go over immediately and help set up over the next few weeks. I’ve sent James. This means I’ve had to change what everyone else is doing at short notice. Someone has to go to Mykonos to review our hotels there and to inspect three potential small and friendly hotels for next year’s brochure…’
I’m not really listening. I’m stuck on the words ‘I’ve sent James to Florida’. Why hadn’t James even mentioned it to me? No bloody wonder he didn’t turn up for that meal and hasn’t returned my calls and texts. He really does take the biscuit.
‘So, unfortunately, Helen, it will have to be you. It’s time-critical.’
My attention is suddenly back in the room. Daniel annoyingly flicks his pen on and off on the desk. He’s staring at me and I haven’t got a clue what will have to be me. ‘Sorry, Daniel, what exactly will have to be me?’
‘Mykonos. I’ve simply got no one else who can go and, to be perfectly honest, I prefer you for the job anyway. There’s something not quite tallying between the feedback James gives me and the reviews that customers send in.’ He twirls his pen in his fingers. It’s so distracting. One day I’ll flip, grab the pen off him and launch it across the room.
‘There’s just one problem with all this, Daniel. I’m doing the Caribbean cruise review and I can’t be in two places at once.’
‘Yes, I know, but there are other Caribbean cruises that you can review later and they’re not as time-critical as Mykonos.’
‘I’m really annoyed about this, Daniel. I’d rather hoped that I’d be considered to oversee the Florida villa project myself and now you’ve sent James instead, who’s been here five minutes.’
‘Helen, I’d hardly call a year “five minutes”. He was actually reluctant to go but he already had a valid visa. In any case, this is just some initial work. I’ll consider sending you on any future visits.’ I’ve still got my sulky face on so Daniel changes tack. ‘Helen, I’m sorry, but you were in the Cotswolds and I was also thinking about what you said about taking your sister on holiday. This way, she can go with you. You’ll be working for two or three days at the most. I’ve already checked availability for flights and altered the reservation to a twin room.’
‘What about Sharon? Can’t she go?’
‘Sharon’s on her booked annual leave, so, no, she can’t go. And before you suggest Pippa, she’ll be at her sister’s wedding. So, as I said, you’re my only option and I’d prefer you to go as you’re more experienced than the others. You’ll be stopping at the Mykonos Boutique Blue Hotel, which is absolutely amazing. I went there myself three years ago and I can guarantee that you and your sister will both love it.’
‘Great, I’m sure my sister will be over the moon,’ I retort sarcastically. ‘And James? Where’s he at this precise moment in time?’ I’m immediately cross with myself for asking about James.
‘Flying over the Atlantic, as we speak,’ Daniel replies in a matter-of-fact tone.
My mouth drops open but Daniel doesn’t notice. He’s already reeling off what needs to be done in Mykonos.
I eventually leave his office with my itinerary, feeling close to tears. But I absolutely refuse to break down in front of Daniel or the others, who are watching me like hawks. I think they know I’m seeing James, so I’m probably a hot topic of conversation around here. My stomach is churning in turmoil as I return to my office.
On a positive note, Steph will probably be quite relieved when I tell her there’s no boat involved in our holiday now. I might as well ring her straight away. I prepare to leave a message on her voicemail, hoping she’ll be busy. But of course she answers on the second ring, sounding bright and cheerful.
‘Hi, Helen! Before I forget, those photos from Mum’s party are brilliant. I want a couple of copies. You’d make a fantastic party planner if you ever fancied a change of career. Speaking of which, aren’t you at work today?’
‘Yes, I am at work, worse luck, and it hasn’t been a good day. Daniel has sent James to Florida to get that villa project off the ground – you know, the one I was telling you about that I fancied.’
‘Er, sorry, Helen, are we talking about James James?’
‘Yes, the very same James, who is, apparently, as we speak, forty thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean.’
‘I assume you knew about it, you being his girlfriend and all that?’
‘No, Steph, he never even mentioned it. I’m lost for words. I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach. Anyway, the thing is, because of all this I’ve now got to go to Mykonos instead of James and that means we can’t go on our cruise. You can come to Mykonos, though, if you want, or change your holidays and we’ll do the cruise in a few weeks’ time. What do you think?’
‘You know what I think of James. You’re better off without him.’
‘Steph, I don’t want a lecture about this now. I’m struggling enough as it is. I mean, what do you think about coming with me to Mykonos? It will be three days’ work at the most and then we can relax at the Boutique Blue Hotel. It actually looks amazing.’
‘Yes, all right, I’ll go to Mykonos. Which is wher
e, exactly? It sounds a bit Greek.’
‘Yes, it’s in Greece. Hang on, I’ll read our brochure blurb. It says, “Welcome to Greece’s famous cosmopolitan island, a whitewashed paradise in the heart of the Cyclades…”’
‘Oh, Helen, not the Cyclades! I’m sure Richard mentioned going there next week with his mate.’
‘Can you remember which island they’re going to? There’s quite a few.’
‘No, I can’t remember. I wasn’t really listening to him. I was pissed off that he’s suddenly okay about going abroad with his mate when he wouldn’t go with me, especially since he’s always saying he’s skint.’
‘Right, I’ve Googled it. There’s Serifos, Kythnos, Antiparos, Sifnos, Paros, Naxos, Santorini… There’s loads, Steph, and I can’t pronounce half of them. You’ll have to ask him.’
‘I’m not bloody well asking him. I know it’s not Mykonos and that’s the main thing. Unbelievable! I’d now rather be going on a cruise around the Caribbean than to the same part of the world as bloody Richard and his mate.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry, Steph. It’s not quite going to plan, is it? On the plus side, we might be able to meet up with Mum and Dad. I’m sure their cruise goes to Mykonos. In fact, I think it’s where Dad wants to sneak off to for a crafty game of golf.’
‘Well, I’m sure the Cyclades are big enough for me and Richard not to bump into each other. I can’t change my holiday days at work at such short notice, anyway. So, Mykonos here we come.’
‘Thanks, Steph, you’re a star. I’ll make it up to you.’
‘Too damn right you will. I’ll never live this down at work. From a Caribbean cruise to a Greek island! And I’ve just bought two weeks’ worth of travel sickness tablets.’
‘Right, well, I’d better get on with writing up these reviews. I’ll ring you in a couple of days to let you know what time I’ll pick you up. Luckily, we’re still flying on the same day but at nine in the morning.’
‘Oh, I like how you’ve dropped that in. I assume it’s a two-hour check-in, which means I need to be up at six. Could be worse, I suppose. I’d better get reading up on Mykonos. I’ve never been to any of the Greek islands.’
‘No, me neither, so that’ll be another box ticked on my extensive list of places to go. See you on Monday – bright and breezy.’
‘You’re ever the optimist!’
Steph clicks off the line. I feel a bit better because she took the rather major itinerary change in her stride. Her holiday clothes will be fine for Mykonos, although I must text her later to pack a jacket or something for the evening; the blurb says it’ll still be cool at this time of year. That bloody Richard, though, what a cheek. All those holidays that I’ve found for him and Steph that he refused to go on and now he’s flouncing off to the Cyclades with his mate. It just doesn’t make any sense.
I half-heartedly finish my Cotswold reviews and shut my computer down. I’m still reeling from the news about James and feeling pretty pissed off at him. He’s another one – a complete mystery. I feel like getting his trumpet – which he’s left at my house – and launching it through one of his windows. I decide instead to send him a message.
Hi another message to
add to the others that
you haven’t replied to.
Just had a meeting
with Daniel. He tells me
you’re on your way to
Florida and I’m going
to Mykonos. Is this
why you’ve been
avoiding me?
For the first time ever, I leave the office early. Daniel and the others are gobsmacked.
Chapter 6
Stephanie
Thank goodness for that. The tannoy finally announces that we can board our flight after four very long hours of waiting. ‘All passengers for Flight GA121, please make your way to Gate 22.’
‘At long bloody last,’ Helen huffs. At one point, I thought she was going to spontaneously combust. ‘I can’t believe we’ve been delayed for so long just because some idiot’s dropped a wallet down the loo and blocked it. I hope nobody’s wandered off to a bar and got drunk. That’ll be the next bloody thing; we’ll be unloading someone’s luggage.’
‘Please, Helen, don’t even think it. Look on the bright side, we’ll be there for sunset.’
‘I suppose,’ she mutters. ‘But this delay’s put me behind. Um, maybe you could do the observations at the Boutique Blue? It’ll be a doddle. It’s one of our platinum hotels. It consistently scores highly on TripAdvisor and on its own in-house surveys. It’s just a straightforward tick sheet. I’ll show you when we’re airborne. Then tomorrow I can get on and visit the hotel that’s getting the bad reviews and give them an action plan. Then the day after I’ll visit the family-run hotels.’
‘Oh, Helen, that means I’ll be on my own for two whole days.’
‘I’m sorry, Steph, but what can I do? It’s not my bloody fault that Daniel’s taken leave of his senses and dropped me in it.’
Another announcement comes on the tannoy. ‘Can all passengers with wheelchairs and buggies, please make your way to the boarding gate.’
Helen rolls her eyes. It’s all tedious stuff to her. She’s never off planes. She taps away furiously on her laptop, rearranging her schedule. I’d love to be a fly on the wall at her family-run-hotel inspections. Helen doesn’t do family-run. She does grand and posh.
She reckons I’ll be able to relax at our hotel and take these day-to-day observations in my stride. I’m glad she’s only busy during the day and will be coming back to our hotel at night. I’m not too worried about keeping myself entertained during the day, but I’d feel like a right idiot sitting on my own at night. Of course, Helen’s used to sitting on her own. It’s an occupational hazard for her. ‘You get used to it,’ she told me once. ‘I don’t even give it a second thought.’
The tannoy starts up again. ‘We now invite passengers seated in Rows 1 to 10 to please make their way to the boarding gate.’
That’s us. Helen finishes tapping on her laptop and at long last closes it. Ordinarily, these seats would mean we were in first class, but I don’t think such a thing exists on this flight. Even so, Helen’s spotted a couple of celebs. She’s got an extensive knowledge of who’s who, but I haven’t got a clue unless they’re in Coronation Street.
‘They’re from Real Housewives of Cheshire,’ she says, shaking her head. ‘It’s a TV series.’
‘Sorry, Helen, I don’t watch it.’
‘You don’t need to watch it, you just need to flick through a normal magazine every now and again instead of that nonsense,’ she snipes.
I’m not going to start arguing with her. My ‘nonsense magazine’ is Healthy, and sometimes there are celebs in it so Helen can bugger off. In fact, Alesha Dixon’s in this month’s issue. ‘Right, let’s get on this plane. I need to sleep,’ I say, changing the subject.
‘Steph, you can sleep when we get there. I want to go through this itinerary with you.’
‘I need to rest my eyes for at least thirty minutes while they finish boarding and go through the safety stuff and then I’ll be all fresh for your instructions. I hardly slept last night, fretting about getting up so early.’
‘Okay, I suppose thirty minutes won’t make any difference, and I need to finish a couple of things first anyway.’
We arrive at the entrance to the plane and the flight attendant indicates that we need to turn left. As I thought, there’s no difference between that and turning right. Maybe one day I’ll get to travel first class. Helen lets me sit in the window seat; I’m 5A and she’s 5B. The one good thing about being up at the front is that the seat configuration is two, four, two, so there’s no one next to Helen to annoy her. She already looks like an angry cat thrashing its tail, ready to lash out at the next unsuspecting victim.
I pop my bag under t
he seat in front of me, fasten my seatbelt and quickly read the safety card. I don’t think I’d be much use in an emergency. I never willingly put myself on an emergency exit. I’d be pulling the door lever the wrong way or worse still the lever would come off in my hand.
Helen settles into her seat with her laptop already out so that she can do more work before we go. Helen is the definition of a workaholic.
For some reason, I can only ever get to sleep at this point of the journey. Once I’m airborne, it’s a no go. ‘Wake me up in a bit, Helen.’
‘I’ll wake you, don’t worry. I want to show you the questionnaire and a couple of other things.’
I take my specs off, pop them in the seat pocket and close my eyes. I hear the pilot making an announcement in the background and then I drift off. I’m dreaming about Richard. It starts off okay, we’re happy, and then I’m suddenly holding a baby girl and trying to persuade Richard to take her. He turns round and walks off, leaving me shouting his name in frustration. The baby starts crying. I slowly come round and realise I’ve been dreaming. There’s a baby crying a few seats away. I can feel the plane moving. We’re taxiing along the runway.
‘Oh my God, Helen, why didn’t you wake me? We’re here.’ I peer out of the window. ‘Oh heck, it’s a bit grey.’ Not that I can see much without my specs.
‘Yes, it’s grey,’ she confirms, sighing.
The plane has stopped, seemingly far away from the airport terminal. I look out of the window to see if I can spot a transfer bus. Everyone seems very restrained; no one undoes their seatbelt. People never take any notice of that please-remain-seated nonsense once the plane has landed and stopped. Maybe they’ve tightened up on it like they have with security. What a bloody nightmare that was. I was almost naked by the time I managed to get through the X-ray machine without it bleeping.
Under a Greek Spell Page 3