37

I can’t really remember the rest of the day, to be honest – probably because the Long Island Iced Majellas basically blew the heads off us. And we had more than one of them to celebrate Abuela Sofia joining the party. Many more. My original plan had been to get everyone back to the Paradise Aqua to change into the traditional Tenerifian rigouts, but once Sofia got going there was no stopping her. When Juana said she was ‘formidable’ what she meant was she’s mad. Wild! She’s basically a tiny Spanish Majella and, naturally, the two of them got on like a house on fire.

So we stayed at the Claddagh until it was time to go to Fibber Magee’s, which is where John and I spent the bulk of our time during our own Tenerifian holiday. It’s also where he met a camogie-playing temptress called Ciara, but the less said about her the better. I’m delighted that I don’t recognise her or anyone else when we arrive, but there’s a framed picture of us behind the bar with the rest of their most loyal customers, which I thought was a nice touch. Anyway, we basically took over the place. Well, there were forty-eight of us, to be fair, and it’s not a big pub. I don’t know how many little cones of fish and chips we got through but it was a lot. Then it was time for karaoke. Sofia and Majella set the standard with a haunting rendition of ‘Ebony and Ivory’, followed by Liz Moran who nearly brought the house down with ‘Country Roads, Take Me Home’. Again, my memory is hazy, but I know me, Maj, Sadhbh, Elaine and Ruby did ‘Wannabe’ by the Spice Girls because there are pictures to prove it. Christ. Ruby insisted on being Mel C and did a back-flip. I was Baby, obviously. And then the dares – oh my god, the dares. The dares are why I woke up with some Dutch fella’s boxers in my backpack. But nothing was worse than when the stripper arrived. In hindsight, the fact that the website had no pictures of him should have been a red flag. But I just can’t resist a deal, and he was 40 per cent off for the month of March. Cris el Oficial de Policia – Cris the Cop. He sounded perfect for Majella’s needs. I even brought along a pair of pink furry handcuffs in case Cris didn’t have any. You can’t have a hen party with a stripping guard and not have pink furry handcuffs. Long story short, Cris was short for Cristina. But Maj sat there and took her lap dance like the pro that she is because I’d paid for it in full and the email said there were no refunds. Cris was very good to stop mid-thrust and wait while we took my phone out to read the fine print.

What I remember most, though, was Majella’s speech. It was after closing time and we’d all drank ourselves sober but were refusing to leave while the Fibber’s staff cleaned up around us and tutted loudly.

‘Ladies,’ Maj had slurred into the mic. It wasn’t even on. ‘I can’t feckin’ wait to marry Pablo.’ We’d all cheered, of course – no one more than Sofia, who is adamant that the happy couple comes back to live with her. ‘I can’t wait to be his wife and you know why? It’s because I looove him. I do. I love him. And I tell him everything. And he knows me better than I know myself, which is how I know this is the real deal. I can’t get anything past him.’ That’s when the tears started. ‘And I’m just so in love and so happy and Mammy –’ Liz’s head shot up from where she’d been resting it on the bar, obviously asleep ‘– I’ll be sorry to leave you, but I can’t wait till me and Pab have our own place because, well … And Sadhbh! Where’s Sadhbh?’ Sadhbh was reclining on the pool table. ‘I fancy Don Shields something rotten but I’d still pick my Pab over him any day – I don’t care how famous he is.’ Sadhbh just gave her a thumbs-up and lay back down. At this point, Majella was crying so much she was almost incoherent, and I was about to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder when she said, ‘And Aisling?’ I sat up straighter in my chair, waiting for her to heap praise on me. Maybe even call me up to say a few words myself. ‘Let’s all raise a glass to Aisling, the best bridesmaid ever in the world ever ever. I can’t wait to marry Pablo and I can’t wait for you to marry John.’

I froze momentarily and the girls from home – everyone who knows John, basically – all looked to me for a reaction while the others whooped and cheered because, well, why wouldn’t they? It’s a nice sentiment, except John is not my boyfriend. I didn’t want to make a scene on Majella’s big night so I pretended nothing had happened, hopped up and started firing discarded knickers and T-shirts into my massive suitcase.

‘Come on, girls, time to call it a night,’ I said, avoiding Majella’s eye. We got separate taxis home and that’s where we left it.

There are only a handful of other guests at the Paradise Aqua so I have no trouble securing thirty sun loungers at the pool the next morning, especially at 8 a.m. I’m not expecting to see the others until much later but I didn’t want to run the risk of us not having enough umbrellas. I’ve already shoved the hangover recovery bags, which have sachets of Dioralyte and little paracetamol duos in them, under everyone’s doors because I’m still in charge of this hen party for the next twenty-four hours and never let it be said that I shirk my responsibilities just because I’m hanging.

‘Hey.’

It’s Majella looking sheepish with a tin of Diet Coke in each hand. I’m very surprised to see her in direct sunlight at this hour.

‘I knocked in for you but there was no answer so I guessed you’d be down here –’ she nods at the thirty sun loungers draped in thirty towels ‘– doing this.’

‘Well, I don’t want a repeat of what happened yesterday. Ambulances aren’t cheap here.’

She smiles. ‘Are you okay, Ais? You’ve been very quiet. You seem preoccupied or something.’

‘I’m grand, grand. Just very busy with everything, that’s all. Are you having a good hen?’

‘The best.’

‘Great stuff.’

‘About what I said last night,’ she says, sitting down beside me and handing me a tin. It’s freezing cold and dripping with condensation. Manna from heaven. ‘I’m sorry. I was locked. I just got confused. I meant James, obviously.’

The weird thing is, after she said it, I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, but I was just being a sap. Those Long Island Iced Majellas have a lot to answer for.

‘It’s grand,’ I say, cracking the tin open, ‘I’m happy with James, so it’s all good.’

I feel like I’ve aged about forty years when we’re queuing to board our flight back to Dublin. Majella and I didn’t mention her speech again during our pool day, which was just what everyone needed after all the madness. Abuela Sofia even came over for a dip and to give Majella her something borrowed to wear for the wedding. It’s a delicate gold locket that belonged to Pablo’s great-great-grandmother. You can imagine the waterworks. It was a lovely moment.

The pizza dinner afterwards was surprisingly good craic too. Very low-key. Everyone came except Danielle, who was last seen behind the wheel of a rented Smart car heading in the direction of some local hills. Still wearing that bandeau dress, brazen as you like.

It’s amazing how hen parties create the most unlikely bonds. Me and Aunt Shirley went halves on a sixteen-inch Hawaiian and she ended up explaining that the reason she went buck-wild this weekend was because her best friend died eighteen months ago and she hadn’t let herself have fun since.

I can’t even describe the feeling of relief when we got to the airport. I’d been worrying for weeks about how I’d pull this hen off, but everyone ended up having a deadly time – no one more so than Maj, who kept saying she’ll need a holiday to recover, but in a good way. Have you even gone on a holiday if you don’t need a holiday to recover? I feel like I’ve just finished the last exam of my Leaving and I allow the beautiful waves of relief to wash over me as I browse for fridge magnets with Elaine and Ruby. It’s a good feeling. I go for a little donkey holding maracas in his front hooves for Mammy.

Waiting for our flight to be called, I take out my phone to text James when I see the new email notification and click into my inbox. It’s from Mandy Blumenthal, and as soon as I see her name I feel my blood pressure rise again.

‘Aisling,’ it starts, ‘I’ve just learned that our event is being pushed back by seven (7) days. We still need your hors d’oeuvres, honey. Now more than ever. Can you reply to confirm you’re good for 4 May? Different day, same menu. Any questions I’m on my cell. M.’

Oh, shite. Emilia Coburn is getting married on the same day as Majella.