Wish You Were Here

It took no time at all to get there. As I climbed out of the car the first thing I noticed was the intensity of the sun. Despite it being relatively early, the temperature was already so hot that the car park tarmac had begun to melt and felt sticky underfoot.

I locked the car and made my way along a path to the entrance where a sign said: ‘Welcome to the Palace of Malia – a Minoan treasure.’ Looking over the fence I could make out various huge lumps of sandstone. Next to the sign was an elderly woman wearing a straw hat who was sitting in a chair reading a book. I asked how much it was to come in and she said something in Greek and pointed towards a doorway a few yards away.

Inside the room along with some literature about the Palace, there was a small ticket booth. As no one was there, I pressed a buzzer mounted on the top of the counter. A small woman with a cheery smile arrived almost immediately and sold me a ticket, which I then handed to the woman in the chair outside. As I gave her my ticket, she muttered something in Greek and then pointed me in the direction of a building behind her.

The building was part of a permanent exhibition that told the story of the palace’s excavation. Large black and white photos from the 1900s were mounted on the wall, and reading from the panels underneath them I learned that the first palace of Malia had been built by the Minoans in 1900 BC only to be destroyed some two hundred years later. It was later rebuilt and destroyed again and then in 1450 BC they rebuilt one last time.

This final version must have been the most impressive, because when I followed the exhibition trail through an archway into an interconnected room, I found a scale model of the palace on a table, under a large glass case. It looked like those models of planned shopping centres and housing developments that I used to see at work before everything became computer generated. I stood for quite a long time, imagining miniature Minoans going about their daily lives. It was sad thinking that all the people who had lived in the palace were no longer alive. And it was a stern reminder of how much things can change in a relatively short space of time.

More knowledgeable about the Minoans than when I’d entered the exhibition, I made my way to the exit, stepped outside and began to pour with sweat. In the short time that I’d been out of the sun the outside temperature had sky-rocketed to unbearable proportions. With the realisation that I might die of dehydration, I wiped the sheen of sweat from my forehead and began looking around the ruins of the palace in earnest. I looked around the remains of courtyards and cellars. I ventured around workshops and dwelling rooms. And somewhere around the court of the tower I decided that it might be time to take a look at the ruination of my own life.

Coming to a huge lump of sandstone that was probably of great archaeological significance, I took the opportunity to take the weight off my feet and sat down. As the sun beat down on my scalp, I took a deep breath and, with much relief, finally let the guilt bottled up inside me run its course.

Here’s to hot summer nights

The kiss on the balcony. That was where it had begun. But it had ended somewhere entirely different. Though we had stopped speaking by this point, there had been no doubt in my mind about how far we intended to go. Guilt didn’t even get a look in as we negotiated the short distance from the balcony to my bed and I knew that unless Andy returned any time soon, nothing short of a miracle would stop my betrayal.

Everything that happened once we reached our destination was lost in the blur of sensory overload. (Although later that night as Lisa and Andy slept peacefully in their bed next to my own, I could recall perfectly the sense of urgency that had gripped me at that moment; the actions it inspired however had faded too swiftly to make a lasting impression. It was a moment within a moment. It was everything and then it was nothing.)

Afterwards, as we disentangled our bodies and readjusted our clothing, I found myself waiting expectantly for the arrival of some sort of sense of regret. After all I had just slept with my best friend’s girlfriend. But there was nothing. And the longer I thought about it the more I began to wonder whether this was down to the simple fact that I wasn’t sorry. Whatever the reason, the deed was done. Events had been set in motion. And no matter what we did to cover up our actions, something fundamental had changed about the world we both inhabited and could never be changed back, no matter how much we adjusted the sheets of my bed, straightened our clothes and wiped away smeared make-up.

The tension was unbearable. Every knock, creak, scrape or groan of the infrastructure of the apartment building set my heart racing even once we were ready for Andy’s return. And as the minutes passed, and the distance between our shared moment and our current state of readiness grew, we became more tense rather than less. I was almost more desperate for him to return and sense that something had gone on than I was to wait for his arrival and escape the consequences of my actions. What I didn’t want – what I couldn’t stand – was the waiting. It was the not knowing if my betrayal would be exposed that was the real torture.

When Andy finally called to let us know he was back I was convinced that if his senses hadn’t been dulled by the raki then he would have guessed straight away that something was wrong. Through my now sober eyes it was as though everything that had been witness to my actions and Lisa’s was emitting a steady fog of guilt that only the sober could see. The whole apartment seemed eerily sinister, like the scene of a murder long after the body had been removed.

‘Victorious,’ said Andy, holding up not one but two bottles of raki. ‘Sorry I took so long, kids. On the way back from the mini-market I bumped into Steve-the-barman downstairs and we got talking and so I bought him a beer.’ Andy set down the bottles, arranged our mugs in a huddle, poured out a double shot into each one and handed them out. ‘Here’s to hot summer nights,’ he said raising his mug in the air. ‘May there be many more of them.’

The three of us stayed out on the balcony for another hour or so, during which time I amazed myself by remaining calm in such a chaotic situation. I made jokes at Andy’s expense, I chatted with Lisa about the everyday stuff of life and I breathed calmly at every opportunity. In short I acted as though nothing had happened. But as the night progressed I realised that my ability to fool Andy had less to do with innate acting skills than my fear of being discovered. I just couldn’t let that happen. I had betrayed my best friend in the cruellest way possible. So if it meant I had to crack jokes, if it meant I had to make small talk with Lisa, if it meant that I had to callously act as though I hadn’t just committed the crime of the century, then that was exactly what I would do.

For the most part, however, as we whiled our way through to the early hours, my mind was focused on two questions: why had Lisa done what she had done? And more importantly, where would we go from here?

Not a single thing

No one batted an eyelid on my return to the apartment following my sojourn to The Palace of Malia. Tom and Lisa were out on the balcony, while Andy was in the bathroom taking a shower. They all assumed I’d gone down to the beach for a morning constitutional and as it seemed as good an excuse as any I didn’t correct them.

Fear of being discovered aside, my biggest worry about the day ahead was centred on how Lisa might act around me in the cold harsh light of day. In my more egotistical moments I’d been imagining that she might be in need of some form of reassurance that last night had meant as much to me as it had done to her. I imagined a whole day of longing looks and secret smiles. Perhaps even a few unexplained tears and temper tantrums. Lisa, however, was as far from giving the game away as possible. From the moment of my return all she did was laugh, joke and be her usual effervescent self. And that was even when Andy wasn’t there. As we made our way down to Stars and Bars, Andy told an anecdote about an anti-student loans demonstration we’d gone on in a bid to chat up a couple of girls we both fancied; I tried desperately to catch Lisa’s eye as if to say, ‘Last night was real wasn’t it?’ but when I did, though she held my gaze unflinchingly, there wasn’t even the faintest flicker of guilt or recognition. It was as though she had wiped the memory from her mind. And without her corroboration to back up my version of events it began to feel as if last night hadn’t happened at all.

‘That was excellent,’ said Andy lighting up a post-breakfast cigarette following our usual Stars and Bars breakfast. ‘I’d suggest that we get the waiter to give our compliments to the chef but I’m guessing he’d think we were being clever.’ He yawned and stretched his arms in the air. ‘So what are we going to do tonight, boys and girls? It’s our last night of freedom. After tonight there’s just a plane ride between us and another twelve months of day-to-day grind.’

‘Very poetic,’ teased Lisa. ‘Is that what life is like with me?’

‘Of course not,’ grinned Andy. ‘It’s much worse.’

‘Well . . . though I’ll hate myself for saying it, given last night’s excesses,’ began Tom, ‘I think we sort of owe it to ourselves to head out in Malia tonight.’

‘Did Tom just suggest that we have a bit of fun?’ asked Andy doing a comedy double take. ‘I tell you what, Charlie, he’s more fun than you these days.’ He paused and took a drag on his cigarette. ‘So Malia it is then,’ he continued. ‘There are still loads of bars that we haven’t been in that look like a right laugh . . . in fact there’s a club I read about that’s throwing a “foam party” tonight.’ Andy looked at us all expectantly but we all looked equally nonplussed. He reached into the back pocket of his shorts and pulled out a page torn from a magazine. It was an advert for the Camelot Club featuring a series of photos of young (mainly female) clubbers waist deep in white foam as if an industrial washing machine had exploded only moments before the pictures had been taken.

‘Now that,’ said Andy waving the advert, ‘is a foam party. Tell me that doesn’t look like fun.’

‘When you say “fun”,’ said Lisa drily, ‘I take it you mean, “Largely populated by twenty-one-year-old girls in bikini tops and cut-off denim shorts?”’

‘Not at all, but if there are girls like that around, then that can’t exactly be a bad thing for our friend here.’ Andy gave my shoulders a squeeze – his physical shorthand for sincerity. ‘Come on, babe,’ he continued, ‘have a heart will you? Let’s not forget that Charlie here – the only single person amongst us – has yet to get any action this holiday. We have to go to this party . . . for his sake.’

‘Thanks and all that,’ I said to Andy in a more determined voice than usual, ‘but it really doesn’t sound like my thing. Let’s just go out, have a few beers and a laugh, okay?’

‘You say that now,’ replied Andy, ‘but when the foam’s flying—’

‘I’m not interested, honestly.’

‘You will be. Trust me.’

‘Trust me,’ I replied as my exasperation edged its way into my voice, ‘I won’t.’

‘Come on, Andy,’ intervened Lisa on my behalf. ‘If Charlie said he’s not interested then you shouldn’t force him.’

Andy rubbed the top of my head patronisingly. ‘See this guy here? This is my mate Charlie Mansell and there’s not a single thing in this world that I wouldn’t do for him. Not a single thing. So that’s why we’re going to the Camelot Club tonight. And that’s why we’ll have a good time. And that’s why I’ll make sure that whatever happens he won’t leave that party alone.’

To talk

It was mid-to-late-afternoon, the sun was marginally less intense than it had been all day (which meant that you could still probably just about fry an egg on the sand) and the four of us were lying on our sun-loungers. Lisa had yet to drop a single hint about the events of the previous night, despite my giving her various opportunities to do so. After leaving Stars and Bars I’d deliberately lingered behind Tom and Andy so that Lisa and I could walk down to the beach together without arousing any suspicion. But before she had noticed me she had playfully called out to Tom and asked for a piggyback as far as the mini-market. At the mini-market I announced that I was going to buy a couple of bottles of water and might need a hand. Although Lisa could’ve easily volunteered, Tom was forced to come to my aid because Andy had simply ignored my request and Lisa took the opportunity to reapply some suncream on her shoulders. Once we were settled on the loungers, I’d asked if anyone was interested in going for a walk – knowing full well that Tom was too engrossed in his Rough Guide and Andy too lazy to stand up – but again she declined preferring to have Andy undo the strings to her bikini, douse her back in suncream and vigorously massage it into her skin. By the time I returned from my walk Lisa was dozing in the sun with one hand resting gently on Andy’s arm and the two of them looked like the perfect picture of togetherness.

‘Do you know what?’ said Tom resting his Rough Guide on his chest. ‘It’s just occurred to me that none of us have actually been in the sea all holiday.’

‘What’s the point?’ said Andy. ‘All that happens is you go in, you get wet, you come out, sand sticks to you and then you have to have a shower – sounds like a proper pain in the arse if you ask me.’

‘I’d love to go in,’ said Lisa, ‘but my suncream isn’t waterproof and I’d have to reapply the lot.’

‘What about you, Charlie?’ asked Tom. ‘Fancy a swim?’

‘Nah,’ I replied eyeing Lisa from behind my sunglasses. ‘I’ve always felt there’s something undignified about men walking round topless. It’s the snob in me.’

Andy sat up, yawned loudly and stretched. ‘I’m going to get some more water. Anyone else want anything?’ Lisa asked for an ice cream while Tom requested a can of Coke. I declined. All I really wanted was an acknowledgement from Lisa that what had happened last night wasn’t a figment of my imagination, so that I could stop feeling as if I was losing the plot.

‘Do you need someone to give you a hand?’ Tom said. ‘I could do with a walk.’

‘Actually I’ve got it sorted,’ said Andy quickly. He turned and looked at me and even though he was wearing his sunglasses I could tell that something was going on. ‘Charlie will give me a hand, won’t you, mate?’

My heart froze mid-beat. ‘Yeah, of course.’

‘Oh, I see,’ joked Lisa. ‘You want to have a quiet word with Charlie, is that it?’

‘Course not,’ said Andy coolly. ‘Feel free to come if you want.’

Lisa looked over at me and I saw a flash of anxiety in her blue-green eyes. ‘No thanks,’ she replied. ‘You two go and do your boy thing.’

We trudged barefoot across the hot sand until we were out of earshot.

‘So what’s going on?’ I asked.

‘Nothing really,’ said Andy, looking over his shoulder at Lisa and Tom. ‘I just couldn’t think of any other way of getting you on your own.’

‘On my own for what?’

‘To talk.’

‘About what?’

‘Nina.’

‘So what have you decided? Are you going to carry on seeing her or call it quits?’

‘Well, that’s sort of what I wanted to talk about.’

Without waiting for my response Andy walked out of the entrance to the beach, crossed the road and sat down on the wall outside the mini-market. There were a couple of girls chatting to each other just to the left of him. Neither of them noticed me as I sat down only a few feet away from them. I was invisible.

‘I know I don’t act like it,’ began Andy, ‘but the truth is Lisa really does mean the world to me. You won’t understand but this holiday and the things I’ve done . . . they aren’t anything to do with her at all. It’s all been about me.’ Andy paused and stared at me as if trying to judge whether I was buying into his argument. What he saw I don’t know, but when I looked into his sunglasses in a return bid to see his soul, all I could see was my own reflection.

‘Well if all that’s true,’ I replied, ‘why are we talking now?’

‘Because somehow things have got messed up,’ said Andy. ‘Last night I came up with the excuse of getting those extra bottles of raki so that I could call Nina and tell her that I wouldn’t be seeing her again. But as soon as I told her she started telling me how good we were together and how we ought to at least give things a try. And even though I kept telling her “no”, at the back of my mind I knew that I wanted to say “yes”.’

‘So you’re going to carry on seeing Nina behind Lisa’s back?’

‘No,’ replied Andy. ‘I’ve decided that when we get back from holiday I’m going to leave her.’

It is what it is

Andy waited for my reaction.

‘So what do you think?’ he asked eventually. ‘Am I losing it? Am I doing the wrong thing? Tell me what I should do?’

I wanted to tell him to leave her. I wanted to tell him that he didn’t deserve her. I even wanted to tell him about what had happened last night. But I didn’t say anything. Instead I remembered that despite everything Andy was still one of my closest friends in the world and deserved the best advice I could give irrespective of its consequences to me.

‘If you leave her it will be a mistake,’ I said firmly.

‘Maybe, but right now I feel it’s the only thing I can do.’

‘You’re not thinking straight. You can’t be. You’re talking about leaving someone you’ve been with for nearly seven years for a girl you’ve known only a few days. Does that sound like the action of someone who is thinking straight?’

‘It is what it is,’ said Andy.

‘What does that mean?’ I replied. ‘It doesn’t mean anything. It’s one of those meaningless phrases people say when they can’t justify whatever ridiculous act of self destruction they’re about to do next.’

There was a long silence and the two girls sitting next to Andy stood up and walked away. I couldn’t think of what else to say. I couldn’t think of how I wanted things to turn out. It was all a mess.

‘I thought you of all people would understand,’ said Andy, looking down at the pavement.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I replied.

‘Nina told me about you and Donna. Nina said that reading between the lines Donna seemed to think that you might have fallen in love with her.’

I tried to hold back all of the feelings brought to the surface just by hearing Donna’s name. ‘Recently dumped guy falls in love with girl on holiday,’ I replied sarcastically. ‘Has all the hallmarks of a relationship that – even if she hadn’t dumped me at the airport – would’ve lasted . . . what? Five . . . maybe . . . six seconds after we’d got back home and she’d realised that I’m not the bloke she thought I was, just a dull bloke with a dull job . . . and a dull flat . . . still licking his wounds following a savaging by his ex-girlfriend.’ I paused and looked at Andy. ‘So what was your point?’

‘My point was . . .’ his voice trailed off. ‘Look you know what I’m like. I’m hardly perfect boyfriend material, am I? Lisa deserves someone better than me.’

‘And Nina doesn’t?’

‘It’ll be different.’

‘How?’ I replied. ‘What makes you so sure you won’t do the same with her too?’

‘Because that’s the whole point of starting again,’ said Andy, ‘to give yourself a clean slate in the hope that maybe this time around you’ll get it right.’

I could see from his face that his mind was made up, so we made our way into the mini-market in silence, bought all the things we were after and then left the shop. On our way back to the beach neither of us mentioned Nina or Lisa again. Instead we talked about recent films we had seen, TV we had watched and famous women we found attractive. And that small host of conversations managed to occupy the void between us right up until we got back to the beach. I retreated to my corner and Andy retreated to his and even though neither of us spoke again we both knew that the conversation was far from over.

. . . and that was all it took

Lisa was holding Andy’s arm aloft so that she could look at his watch. ‘Time to go, boys,’ she said disappointedly.

‘What time is it?’ asked Tom.

‘Just coming up to five.’

‘So that’s the end of beach life for us for a while,’ said Andy. ‘I was actually kind of getting into it.’

‘We could still come down tomorrow,’ said Lisa. ‘What time are we supposed to be out of our rooms?’

‘Eleven,’ said Andy.

‘Midday,’ I corrected.

Andy shrugged. ‘Either way we’ll have nowhere to wash once we’ve been kicked out so I doubt if I’ll be bothering with the beach tomorrow.’

‘That’s a shame,’ said Lisa. ‘So what time’s the actual flight home?’

‘Eleven o’clock at night,’ said Andy.

‘Actually it’s just after midnight,’ I corrected again. ‘And the coach picking us up for the airport is coming some time around nine.’

As Andy and Lisa began collecting their things together, it became clear that the tension between me and Andy hadn’t gone unnoticed because Tom lifted up his sunglasses and raised his eyebrows in querying fashion. Andy and Lisa were still too close for comfort for me to respond so as they began making their way towards the top of the beach I lingered by the loungers with Tom.

‘So what’s happened now? You’ve barely said a civil word to each other since your trip to the shops.’

‘I don’t even know where to begin,’ I replied. ‘It’s all wrapped up so tightly together it’s almost impossible to unravel. I’m not even sure where the beginning of the story is . . . but I’m pretty certain what the end will be if Andy finds out.’

‘This doesn’t sound good at all. What has he done now?’

‘It’s actually all my fault this time,’ I replied. ‘I slept with Lisa.’

‘You what?’

‘I know,’ I replied. ‘I shouldn’t have done it but I did.’

‘When did this happen?’

‘Last night, after you went to bed. Andy went out to get some more raki and I don’t know . . . we started talking and it all snowballed from there.’ Tom couldn’t have looked more disappointed in me if he’d tried. ‘I promise you, if I’d thought for a second that Andy even remotely cared for her I would never have let it happen.’

‘That’s easy to say,’ said Tom. He looked up ahead to where Andy and Lisa stood waiting at the top of the beach. ‘I take it he doesn’t know?’

‘No,’ I replied.

‘So why all the tension this afternoon?’

‘Well that sort of brings me to the twist in the story . . .’

‘Nothing you say could surprise me now.’

‘Not even if I told you that not only is Andy going to carry on seeing Nina when we get back home, but he’s decided that he’s going to leave Lisa?’

‘This whole holiday is a mess from beginning to end. We would’ve all been better off staying at home.’ Tom bent down and picked up his bag. ‘So where does all this leave you and Lisa?’

‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘We haven’t had a chance to talk yet.’

‘And if you had, what would you say?’

‘I don’t know,’ I replied. ‘I really don’t know.’

It’s not going to blow over

It was evening now and the four of us were making ready to leave The Bengal Castle (one of the few Indian restaurants in Malia and yet another one of Tom’s discoveries). Our next stop was the strip, where we planned to visit a few bars before heading off to Andy’s beloved foam party at the Camelot Club.

So far the evening had been uneventful. Andy and I had barely spoken to each other until we all sat down to dinner, when we both mellowed significantly for the sake of the evening that lay ahead of us. As for Lisa, I was still none the wiser about her feelings about last night. She hadn’t said a single thing to me and there hadn’t been the opportunity for me to say a single thing to her. Instead, while the others hung around the bedroom watching TV, I sat on the balcony alone under the guise of reading The Da Vinci Code when in reality all I was doing was staring out to sea and thinking about Lisa.

‘So come on then, Charlie,’ said Tom as he pushed his chair underneath the table and leaned on the backrest, ‘what do you think will be the first thing you’ll do once you get home?’

‘I don’t know.’ I hadn’t been particularly talkative all evening. I glanced at Lisa. ‘Maybe you should ask someone else.’

Tom turned to Lisa and smiled. ‘You’ll give me an answer won’t you, mate?’

‘Okay,’ replied Lisa. ‘The first thing I’ll do is open the post. I love it when you go away and there’s a ton of stuff waiting for you. It’s almost like it’s your birthday . . . only there aren’t any cards . . . only junk mail and utility bills and letters from your auntie telling you how well all your cousins are doing.’ Lisa batted the question back to Tom. ‘What about you? What will be the first thing you do when you get home?’

‘It’s a bit boring,’ replied Tom. ‘I’ll kiss Anne and the kids. That’s the first thing I always do when I walk through the door.’

‘That’s not boring,’ said Lisa. ‘It’s sweet. I’d love to come home to a family like that one day.’

‘Ask him what the second thing is,’ said Andy. ‘I bet it won’t be quite so cuddly.’

‘He’s right,’ laughed Tom. ‘The second thing will be to check all my work e-mails in case there’s anything important in there. Last time Anne and I went away I came back to an in-box groaning under the cyber-weight of two hundred-and-sixty-seven unopened e-mails and attachments. Ninety per cent of them were the usual: “It’s Brian’s leaving do on Friday – please make the effort to come along.”’

‘That sounds like my place too,’ replied Lisa.

‘What about you, Andy?’ asked Tom. ‘What will be your first move when you get home?’

‘I can answer that one for you,’ said Lisa. ‘It’s easy. The first thing Andy always does is go around the house checking every single room to see if anything’s changed. It’s a weird sort of superstition he’s had going for as long as we’ve been living together.’

‘She’s making this up,’ said Andy, clearly embarrassed, ‘I don’t do that at all.’

‘He does,’ teased Lisa. ‘He even does it in the same order every time. It’s living room, kitchen, front bedroom, back bedroom and then bathroom. It’s like he’s checking for burglars or something.’

‘Look,’ interrupted Andy, ‘can we stop talking about going home and start having some fun here? Tonight’s our last night together. And I’m pretty sure that none of us is ever going to come back here again. So let’s just enjoy ourselves okay?’ He patted me on the back. ‘And that means you too, mate. Tonight is going to be a night you’re never going to forget.’

Things were busy now. The pavements were packed with so many young Brits that it was hard to imagine there could be anyone between the ages of eighteen and thirty left at home. They were all here, fuelled with booze and ready to party.

The bar girls of the strip were in force. It was easy to pick them out amongst the streets crowded with holidaymakers because they stood out a mile: long legs, incredible bodies, cheeky personalities, provocative dress sense. It was all there and it was all working for them. We watched in admiration as a stunning girl in a pink top, short skirt and cowboy boots managed to single-handedly herd about ten guys into Bar Logica in a matter of seconds. Meanwhile across the way three girls wearing tight jeans and matching polka-dot bikini tops were picking off groups of guys at random and leading them into Hotshot’s cocktail lounge at such a rate that there was a huge backlog of blokes crowded in the bar like sheep waiting to be shorn. But despite the strong bar-girl presence, unlike on our previous visits, not a single one of them even looked in our direction. The message was clear. Even though there were three of us – and only one of Lisa – in their eyes at least, we all belonged to her. We were no longer strays as I’d imagined at the airport. We had an owner. A leader. Someone in charge. And the girls in their short skirts and tight tops knew and respected that. And although I didn’t miss the attention – my mind was too focused elsewhere – I did resent the assumption that Lisa owned all three of us, even if in truth they were actually only one third out.

Lisa’s presence affected my perception of the strip too. Bathing in the neon glow of the bars and the clubs we found ourselves jostling with rowdy gangs of youths shouting and swearing at the top of their voices; we were breathing in the hot fat smells of a thousand and one takeaway meals, and we were forced to endure the constant thump of countless anonymous club tracks. Thanks to Lisa, I suddenly saw Malia with new eyes and felt embarrassed that we had brought her here at all. Everything around us was evidence of both my and Andy’s lack of maturity – the exact opposite of the dictionary definition of ‘sophistication’. We were Beavis and Butthead at thirty-five. Grown men in schoolboy trousers. Overgrown teenagers trying desperately to hang on to the last vestiges of our youth. And I realised (albeit too late) that some activities in life, like holidaying in Malia, skateboarding or drinking until you throw up over your shoes, are too youthful for a man this deep into his thirties to participate in without looking like a fool.

‘Let’s try this place.’ Lisa came to a halt as if she had overheard my thoughts and was now desperate to compound my shame. ‘It looks like fun.’

‘Are you sure?’ replied Andy, staring at Pandemonium’s eye-catching neon sign. ‘I mean, it looks a bit tacky, don’t you think?’

‘Cheesy, yes,’ corrected Lisa. ‘Tacky? No. What does everyone else think?’

‘I don’t mind,’ said Tom.

Lisa looked at me expectantly, but I had long since given up trying to hide how I was feeling.

‘Right then,’ said Lisa, ‘Pandemonium it is then.’

Pandemonium hadn’t changed since we were last there. The music was still loud, the bar was still packed and the waitresses still wearing very little. We set up camp in the same seats that we had occupied on our first night, Tom and I facing the bar and Andy and Lisa sitting opposite. A bunny-girl waitress came and took our drinks orders and once they arrived we tried several times to start a group conversation but soon tired of yelling over the music. Out of necessity, then, Lisa and Andy fell into their own private conversation while Tom and I fell into our own.

‘It’s like history repeating itself,’ said Tom as he looked up at the TV screen above his head showing highlights of the day’s test match. ‘At least tonight should be less eventful than last time.’

‘Maybe,’ I replied.

‘What do you mean, “maybe”?’ asked Tom looking at me suspiciously. ‘You’re not going to start something tonight are you?’

I took a sip of my beer. ‘I really like her, Tom. I really like her.’

‘Lisa?’

I nodded.

‘Do you mean you like her in the same way you “really liked” Donna?’ said Tom, playing devil’s advocate.

‘That’s hardly fair is it?’ I responded. ‘I did like Donna . . . but she didn’t want me. What should I be doing instead? Sitting around crying into my beer?’

‘No,’ replied, Tom, ‘but I just don’t think Lisa’s the answer. Think about it, Charlie, you haven’t even spoken to her about last night yet and you’re already thinking about rocking the boat with her and Andy.’

I glanced across the table. It seemed too bizarre for words that I could be discussing my feelings for her so openly with her sitting less than three feet away and yet so oblivious.

‘You’re absolutely right.’

‘Absolutely right about what?’ asked Tom.

I didn’t reply. Instead I stood up, walked around to Andy and Lisa’s side of the table and tapped them both on the shoulder.

‘All right, mate?’ said Andy. ‘What’s up?’

‘You’re right about me putting some effort into having a laugh tonight. In fact I’m so in the right frame of mind that I actually fancy a dance . . . which is why I was just wondering if I could borrow your girlfriend for a bit.’

Andy laughed. ‘How much have you had to drink? I’ve never seen you on the dance floor unless you’re practically slaughtered.’

‘I know,’ I replied. ‘But there’s a first time for everything.’

‘In that case you have my full blessing, mate.’

Lisa looked on helplessly as I took her by the hand and led her in the direction of the Pandemonium’s packed dance floor. At the last minute, however, I changed direction and instead guided her through some large glass doors to the bar’s outdoor patio area where dozens of couples sat at tables talking by candlelight.

‘I’m sorry for dragging you away like that,’ I said as we came to a halt next to a row of potted olive trees. ‘I didn’t know what else to do.’

‘This is insane, Charlie,’ protested Lisa. ‘What if Andy came out here right now?’

‘I know, I know,’ I replied, fighting hard the urge to kiss her. ‘But what could I do? I’ve got to know what last night was about.’

‘It was a mistake,’ she said quietly.

‘A mistake?’

Lisa nodded. ‘I wish with my whole heart that it had never happened.’

I walked over to an empty table, sat down and closed my eyes in a bid to block out what was happening. As I squeezed my eyes shut a million and one emotions washed over me.

‘It can’t have been a mistake,’ I said desperately. ‘I felt something for you last night and I know you did too. I can’t have got it that wrong, surely? It wasn’t just all in my head.’

‘You’re right,’ she replied. ‘I think when Andy told me he was flying me over here I was more excited about seeing you than I was him. You were there for me when I needed you. I wanted to be there for you, too. But I took things too far. You’re Andy’s best friend. I should never have put you in that position.’

‘But you did,’ I replied. ‘And even though I’m Andy’s friend I don’t regret anything about last night.’

‘You and Andy have been friends too long for me to believe you mean that.’

‘You don’t need to tell me what’s at stake,’ I replied. ‘I already know. And maybe Andy will never get over it or maybe he will. But all I know is that it’s worth the risk. Last night wasn’t just about sex. It was about something more than that. It must have been.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘Say you’ll leave him.’

I could see from Lisa’s face that she hadn’t seen that coming. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying, Charlie.’

‘Maybe not,’ I replied. ‘But I know you don’t love him.’

There was a long silence.

‘You’re right,’ she said eventually, ‘I don’t, at least not like most people would mean it. We’re probably more like a car crash. We’re too mangled together to tear apart without doing ourselves some permanent damage.’ Lisa paused as a group of girls carrying luminous cocktails came out through the glass doors and filled the patio with cackling laughter.

‘We’d better go back inside, Charlie,’ said Lisa, standing up. ‘Andy could start looking for us any second. Are you coming?’

‘You carry on,’ I replied. ‘I’ll see you in a minute.’

Lisa headed back inside the bar while I looked up into the night sky and contemplated what had just happened. She was right, of course. What had happened was just a messy situation in which some degree of misery was inevitable for everyone involved. But what she didn’t know was that she was living on borrowed time, just like I had been with Sarah. Andy was going to leave her and yet she had chosen him over me. This didn’t seem right or fair. Once again he was going to walk away with everything he wanted while everyone else cleared up the chaos behind him.

I crossed the patio towards the door back into the bar but stopped when I saw Tom coming the other way.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘When Lisa came back to the table alone I thought something might be up.’

‘She’s not going to leave him,’ I said succinctly.

Tom sighed. ‘I know it must be tough for you but it’s probably for the best.’

‘How can that be true when he’s going to leave her anyway?’

‘You don’t know that for sure, do you? Andy says a lot of things he doesn’t mean. And even if he does, there’s no need for you to get involved is there? If he does leave her then maybe there’ll be a chance you and Lisa can get together when all this has blown over.’

‘It’s not going to blow over,’ I replied. ‘Can’t you see that? This whole thing is a mess. I didn’t mean for it to happen but I don’t regret it because it wasn’t me who cheated on Lisa in the first place. And it’s not me who’s planning to leave her when we get back home. And while this might not be the best way for me and Lisa to get together, now it’s happened there’s no going back. The only thing I regret is all the lies. It’s time for me to be honest, Tom. It’s time that someone told Andy the truth.’

‘You’re not thinking straight,’ said Tom grabbing my arm. ‘This is going to cause nothing but trouble. What about Lisa?’ Tom increased his grip. ‘You haven’t even talked it through with her.’

‘I know all I need to know,’ I replied.

When I look back at that moment when I broke free of Tom, stepped back inside the bar and began making my way over to Andy and Lisa, the two things I remember most clearly are the sound of blood rushing to my head and the feeling of urgency fuelling my actions. This was something I needed to do, regardless of the consequences.

‘All right, mate?’ Andy grinned as I reached our table. ‘So how was the dance floor?’

‘I wasn’t on the dance floor,’ I replied much to Andy’s confusion. ‘We need to talk.’

‘No, he doesn’t,’ said Tom, catching up with me. ‘Just ignore him, Andy.’ He grabbed me by the arm again and tried to pull me away but I was too determined to carry out my mission to budge an inch.

Lisa flashed Tom a look of concern. ‘Is he all right?’ she asked, as though I was unable to speak for myself.

‘I’m fine,’ I replied. ‘I just need to talk to Andy alone, that’s all.’

‘This isn’t the time or the place, mate,’ said Tom. ‘Why don’t you leave it until later?’

‘Leave what for later?’ said Andy standing up. ‘I feel like I’m missing out on something. What’s this all about?’

‘It’s about you,’ I said calmly.

Andy’s eyes flitted from me to Tom and back again as he tried to weigh up whether this was to do with him and Nina, or something else altogether.

‘Let’s take this outside, mate,’ said Andy, hedging his bets.

‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’ I replied. ‘Is it because you don’t want Lisa to hear what I’ve got to say?’

‘You’d better watch yourself, Charlie,’ warned Andy. ‘You’re going too far.’

‘You’re wrong,’ I replied. ‘I’ve already gone further than I thought I ever would and now I’m here I’m not going to back down. I’ve always backed down with you, haven’t I? I used to back down with Sarah too. I feel like I’ve spent my whole life backing down from everything and everyone. But not this time. This time I’m going to stand my ground.’

‘Look, mate,’ intervened Tom. ‘I’m begging you, please don’t do it. You’ll regret it. You know you will. Just leave it and walk away.’

‘I can’t, Tom,’ I replied. ‘I have to do this.’

‘You have to do what?’ said Andy defiantly.

‘Tell you that last night I slept with Lisa,’ I replied, facing Andy head on.

Andy didn’t say anything for a few moments. He didn’t need to as it was all written across his face: the relief of realising that this had nothing to do with Nina, followed quickly by the hurt of a double betrayal, and then finally the anger and indignation of being wronged.

Before he could ask Lisa the question on his lips, she grabbed her bag, and brushed past me and ran towards the entrance to the bar. Pausing only to throw me a look of pure distilled hatred Andy followed after her, while Tom and I stood by in silence.