Kim’s eyes were heavy.
The sun was blinding and her head hurt like a thousand spikes were being driven into it. She groaned as she rolled over in bed, the stale taste of alcohol tainting her tongue. Her mouth felt like cotton.
She forced an eye open. Where was she?
It was bright, way too bright, and the flimsy gauze curtains on the window stood open, allowing the sunlight free rein. The walls were a garish orange color and there were cracks like rivers across the dingy ceiling.
Painted vines with purple grapes and red-and-white flowers lined the faded trim. It took her a moment to remember where she was and what had happened the day before.
Italy.
Annie, Colette, and way too much grappa. It was all a little blurry after that, but she did remember something about dancing outside on an ancient crumbling cabana-type thing under the olive trees.
Or was that Annie? Kim wasn’t sure.
She tried to go back to sleep but rest eluded her. Her head was throbbing and the only way it was going to stop was with some pain relief and maybe some food.
But the prospect of getting up to find either seemed the equivalent of climbing Mount Everest without oxygen.
If she was back home she could’ve just called down for the housekeeper to send something up, but she was in Italy and supposed to be fending for herself.
She groaned again as she forced herself onto her feet.
How she had got to this bedroom in the first place she wasn’t sure. She didn’t even remember being shown to a room, but despite the hows and means, she seemed to have ended up in one that was hot as hell.
And she might even end up sharing with someone else, she groaned inwardly, spotting the neatly made single bed across the way.
Kim wandered blearily around the landing outside, the intense sunlight causing her even more pain as she padded downstairs and tried to make her way to the kitchen.
Finally she found it and immediately began pulling open creaky old cupboards and messy drawers in the hope of finding something to ease the jackhammer in her head.
“Looking for something?” Colette asked a moment later. She was sitting calmly at the heavy oak table nearby with a cup of coffee.
Kim hadn’t spotted her on the way in.
Her voice was ten decibels too loud, though, and she raised a hand. “Not so loud,” she moaned. “My head hurts.”
“I have some aspirin in my bag upstairs,” the younger girl offered, getting up. “I’ll get them. By the way, you snore.”
How come she’s so sprightly this morning? Kim asked herself as she settled down at one of the wooden chairs beneath the large rectangular table.
Especially when yesterday her first impression of the English girl was that she was afraid of her own shadow. Unlike the Irish one, who looked like she wanted to beat hers (and everyone else’s) up.
And seriously, who made their bed so perfectly like that? Kim groaned inwardly.
Though on the plus side, at least she kinda knew her roommate.
She closed her eyes and laid her head down on the heavy wood, hoping to ease the throbbing.
“Here you go,” Colette announced a few minutes later as she placed a pack of painkillers on the table before her. “Are you hungry?”
“Ugh. I don’t think I could eat.”
“Well, I could,” Annie piped up. Kim hadn’t even realized she’d come in either.
“How can you both sound so cheery when I feel like a train wreck?” she grumbled in annoyance as she ripped open the blister pack of painkillers. “Thanks.” She looked up gratefully at Colette, who’d also put a glass of water down in front of her.
“Won’t work,” Annie insisted as she moved toward the fridge. “I have the perfect hangover cure,” she continued, taking out tomatoes and what looked like it had once been celery from the fridge. She glanced dubiously at the drooping leaves. “God bless French students, is all I can say.”
“You make that and I’ll do breakfast,” Colette said, reaching over Annie and grabbing out some bacon and eggs. “There’s a lovely little grocery shop just down the hill. I found it this morning while out on my walk. The owner’s been there for over thirty years, she told me.”
Kim groaned again. These girls were way too perky. Annie looked as fresh as she had yesterday evening, and Colette had been out for a morning walk and already made friends with the locals.
Surely Kim hadn’t drank all that liquor by herself?
“You can cook?” Annie asked, as she began to chop vegetables and drop them in a blender.
“I cooked for Mum every day for years, remember?” Colette answered proudly.
Kim vaguely remembered the English girl telling them last night about her mother being unwell, but that she was better now. They’d all been sitting out on the terrace, sharing stories under the stars.
For her part, she wasn’t sure how much or little she’d told them about her own background; last night still felt like kind of a blur.
Annie was about to start the blender, but Kim already knew her head wasn’t going to be able to take the noise.
“You two do what you’re doing, I’m going outside to lie down for a while. Or no, scratch that,” she said, remembering the blinding sunshine. “Maybe I’ll try to find someplace in the shade. Call me when breakfast is ready.”
She padded out to the hallway, her bare feet slapping against the cracked tiled floor.
She made it to a couch in a living area situated at the rear of the house, facing away from the sun and with little natural light, before the spinning in her head overwhelmed her. She flopped into the worn-though-comfortable cushions without ceremony, and flung an arm over her head to shield her eyes, even though it was satisfyingly dark.
She felt sooo bad and wanted to go back to sleep, but with the combination of the pounding in her head and the chatter and cooking noises coming from the kitchen, she knew the chances of that were near impossible.
This was not a good start. Kim had come all the way here to escape her New York party-girl crap and she’d ended up trashed and dancing in the moonlight on her very first night.
So much for changing her life.
“There you are,” Annie’s voice suddenly resounded nearby. Kim peeked out from beneath her arm. The other girl had a tall glass of some thick red concoction in her hands. She frowned.
“What is it?”
“Bloody Mary, of course. I know it looks rotten, and doesn’t taste the best either, but it works. Trust me, I’m Irish. We know the best cures.”
Kim sat up. “All right, but if this doesn’t work I’m holding you responsible.” She narrowed her eyes. “Like I should for last night—as I recall, the grappa was your suggestion. As was the wine and then the beer...”
“Ah, would you stop it, last night was great craic. And the Germans were only too delighted to share their stash with us. Here—” She handed her the drink.
Their chat was interrupted by the sound of singing coming from the kitchen and each gave the other a conspiratorial look.
“How is she so goddamn chipper?”
“I have no idea,” Annie replied. “I was full sure she’d be out cold for an entire week after all we drank, but she’s better off than either of us. Not a bother on her.”
“Think the innocent act is real?”
“Looks that way,” Annie said. “Lousy, I know, but when she walked in here yesterday my first thought was: there’s someone that could seriously use a makeover.”
Despite herself, Kim laughed. “You said you do hair, right? Maybe you could offer her some of your expertise.”
Colette announced that breakfast was ready a few minutes later and both Kim and Annie made their way back to the kitchen and the waiting meal.
Kim picked at her scrambled eggs, even though they were really good. The entire meal was. She was impressed. She couldn’t boil water without starting a fire. It was fortunate that Colette would be around while she was here; might save her on some of the eating-out expenses.
She remembered now that the English girl had also reacted with considerable enthusiasm last night to her suggestion about the cookery class. Maybe she should just let Colette go along instead, and Kim and Annie could reap the benefits.
“So what are we doing later?” Annie asked eagerly.
Kim looked at her, realizing that, like it or not, she seemed to have made some new friends. She hadn’t really considered what she would do while here, she just needed to get away. But maybe some companionship would be a good thing?
As long as they didn’t spend all their time partying.
“Dunno,” she replied noncommittally. “Did you have something in mind?”
“There’s this brilliant place downtown I went to the other night. A late-night bar actually cut into a cave,” she enthused, eyes shining. “Great crowd and the music is the biz. We could do our own thing today and maybe meet up later for a bite to eat and head there after?” She turned to Colette for a response.
“Great,” the English girl replied with a smile. “Sounds like fun.”
Kim nodded in assent. She was happy to check out the town, but she’d already decided that she wasn’t going to drink a single drop of alcohol.
Time to put her partying days well and truly behind her.