Spending the night in the world’s smallest double bed with Luke was always going to be testing, but throw stomach issues and a glass-walled toilet into the mix and we truly had the night from hell. Any time one of us got to sleep, the other one would have to go to the loo. There only seems to be one setting on the bathroom light, which is extremely bright, and thanks to the wonderful glass doors it was on, it lit up the whole room like Blackpool Illuminations. We did try at one point to only use our phone torches but given that the room is pitch black and our bellies gave us approximately twenty seconds of warning, there wasn’t time.
My alarm goes off and I roll over to see how Luke’s feeling. Only instead of seeing him on the other side of the bed, I find myself staring at him naked in the shower. I quickly roll over to face the windows. At least I only saw his bum.
I pick up my phone and check out my metrics to see how we got on yesterday. We’ve had lots of views and people like our smug hotel selfie that we took in our matching robes. If only they’d seen us simultaneously throwing up ten minutes later.
I also see that I’ve got a message from Aidan on Whatsapp.
My heart sinks. I wish I could. I type quickly back.
I hate the fact that I’ve lied to him, but at least the one up-side of this food poisoning is that I can honestly tell him I spent the whole time holed up in the room.
Luke comes out of the bathroom with a tiny towel wrapped around his waist.
‘Why have you got a goofy smile on your face?’ he asks.
I put the phone down on the bedside table and try to make my face look normal.
‘Just texting a friend.’
‘Oh,’ he says, nodding. ‘I have those types of friends.’
I want to tell him that Aidan’s not a friend with benefits, but I can’t even bring myself to talk about him in front of Luke.
‘Just make sure you don’t get too friendly; we don’t want to blow this thing,’ he says.
‘I know,’ I say, thinking back to the moment of our near kiss. ‘How was your shower?’
‘It really helped. I’m starting to feel a lot better, mainly because I don’t think I can possibly have anything left to come out of me.’
‘Tell me about it.’
There’s a knock at the door and Luke saunters over to open it.
I pull up my sheets, not for modesty, but to conceal the fact that I’m wearing button-down flannel pyjamas. I brought my least sexy PJs with me.
‘Ah, thanks,’ says Luke as a waiter wheels in a little trolley of food.
‘Compliments of Grant,’ says the waiter. He actually bows his head and walks back out of the room.
The smell of fresh coffee wafts over and it doesn’t make me want to heave.
Luke pulls up the silver dish lids and reveals a platter of smoked salmon and eggs and one of fresh fruit.
‘Cover the salmon,’ I say, putting my hand over my mouth.
‘How about fizzy water for breakfast?’ he says, pouring me a glass.
‘Perfect,’ I say. ‘What a bloody waste this is. It’s all free and we’re drinking water.’
‘Maybe we’ll get better as the day goes on.’
‘Maybe.’
‘So,’ he says, going over to pick up the list of suggested activities. ‘What are we going to do today? Clay-pigeon shooting?’
‘I don’t know if I’ve got the energy to wield a shotgun over my head. How about the falconry? We’ll just stand there and the bird will do all the work.’
Luke winces.
‘I hate birds.’
‘You hate birds?’
‘Uh-huh. I don’t want one flying round my head. What if it landed in my hair?’
‘Because it would mistake your quiff for a perch?’
‘Very funny. Because I don’t like them. They’re like rats with wings. And those beaks and the pecking. No, I don’t like them at all.’
‘OK,’ I say, thinking if we were a real couple how much I’d be finding out about him this weekend. ‘No birds. What else is on the list?’
‘Archery.’
‘Too physical.’
‘Yoga.’
‘Too physical.’
‘I’ll save myself time: tennis, horse riding and cycling are all out then.’
‘Is there anything left?’
‘Spa.’
‘Now you’re talking.’
‘Spa it is. I’ll phone Grant and let him know.’
‘I’m so delighted to show you both our new spa,’ says Grant, walking us through the area. ‘We upgraded it last year and it has wonderful reviews now. You’re going to come out feeling like new people.’
Being a Saturday, the large pool area is full of people, relaxing in their robes on sun loungers, swimming and lazing around in the pool. I’m looking forward to lying down and indulging in one of the glossy magazines that are stocked around the room.
‘Now, here’s Bill, the photographer,’ he says, introducing us to a middle-aged man. He shakes our hands and we all mutter a few pleasantries.
‘The exciting news is, I’ve managed to squeeze you in for a couple’s mud session,’ says Grant.
‘Mud?’ I squeak. ‘I thought we were just going to spa.’
‘You are, but you simply must try the mud, it’s unlike anything you will have experienced. I’ll introduce you to Jacinda who’ll be looking after you. Bill will come along and take photos in the middle too,’ he says, bundling us into a room where there’s a tall thin woman smiling at us.
‘Hello, I’m Jacinda, so lovely to meet you. I’m going to be guiding you on this journey today.
‘First of all you’re going to get into the bath and once you’re settled, I’ll come in and apply the mud to your face and shoulders. I’ll come back in again and press a hot towel on your face. And then once you’re ready to get out, you’ll shower and then I’ll transfer you into the nap room.’
‘Nap room,’ I say, homing in on the one part of this that sounds good.
‘Yes, you’ll be so relaxed that you’ll need it. Now, I’ll leave you to get in yourselves. The best thing to do is to sit on the edge of the bath and lower yourself in gently. You’ll probably need to help each other.’
‘Is it going to be OK to go to the spa after if my bikini’s all muddy?’ I ask.
Jacinda tinkles with laughter. ‘Oh no, you need to be naked in the mud. It’ll stain your clothes.
‘Don’t worry,’ she says, reacting to my look of horror. ‘I’ll make sure you’re decent before the photographer comes along.’
Jacinda bows much like the waiter and leaves us alone in the room.
‘I’ve always wanted to go mudding since I watched Suits,’ says Luke.
‘Me too,’ I say, staring at the mud. It’s much thicker and gloopier than the glossy mud from the baths in the TV programme.
‘You know it’s funny that people say that I’m like Harvey Specter.’
‘What – because of his arrogance?’ I say, thinking of the main character.
‘More because of his looks.’
‘If you say so,’ I say, sniggering.
He gives me a hard stare before he turns back to the mud.
‘I don’t think I can do this,’ he says.
‘Thank God, I thought I was being a prude.’
‘Not the getting naked part,’ he says, dismissing my body insecurities with a shrug. ‘It’s that mud, it reminds me of…’
He doesn’t need to finish that sentence.
‘Tell me about it, and that smell.’
‘How long did Jacinda say we’d be in here, twenty minutes?’
‘That doesn’t sound like a long time but I reckon it would be. What happens if we’ve got to go to the toilet whilst we’re in there?’
We stare even harder at the mud.
‘She’s going to be back in a minute,’ I say, not believing that I’m actually going to go through with this. ‘And the photographer is coming.’
‘You’re right,’ says Luke. He rolls his head to the sides and breathes out deeply. ‘OK, I’m going in.’
He pulls his swimming trunks off and I barely have time to close my eyes before he scrambles up onto the side of the baths.
I hear lots of squelching and a couple of groans.
‘It’s not that bad,’ he says. ‘Just don’t breathe in.’
I open my eyes and see he’s mostly submerged. I curse like a trooper and I peel off my bikini.
‘Close your eyes,’ I say to Luke.
‘What? You might need help.’
‘You managed it, I’m sure I’ll be fine. Close your eyes.’
He sighs loudly and I take that as confirmation that he has.
I climb up onto the side of the bath, practically bent over double clinging onto my boobs. I lower a foot into the mud thinking that I’m going to sink but it sort of floats and I realise that it’s not going to be a graceful glide into the mud that I imagined it would be. I force myself in, inch by inch, with the poise of a beached whale.
‘This is so weird. It feels like I’m floating.’
‘I know, I think we are.’
‘It’s hot. Are you hot?’
‘I’m hot,’ he replies in a much calmer voice than mine.
I can feel beads of sweat forming on my forehead and I’m starting to panic. Mainly because I don’t think I’d be able to get out in a hurry if I needed to.
Jacinda glides into the room just in time. She has such an air of serenity about her that I start to relax.
‘How are you finding it?’ she says, rubbing mud into my shoulders.
‘It’s lovely…’ Apart from the fact I’m lying naked next to my fake boyfriend, sweating out of every pore and trying not to panic about the fact that I won’t be able to escape if nature calls.
‘Great. I’ll send the photographer in for a few snaps. I’ll make sure he doesn’t stay too long as you need to have proper alone time. Such a special gift, isn’t it? Time like this away from devices when you’re suspended in mud unable to move and with each other’s undivided attention.’
She opens the door and Bill breezes in with a large camera round his neck.
‘Look at each other lovingly,’ he says whilst he snaps away from all different angles.
I don’t think we’ve ever had to hold up the pretence so long and he finally seems happy with his photos and leaves us to it. Jacinda follows behind him.
‘This is pretty intense,’ says Luke. ‘How’s your belly holding up?’
‘It’s OK for the moment.’
‘Ten minutes left,’ he says.
‘Bloody hell. I’m not going to make it.’
‘Sure you are. Let’s talk.’
‘Great. Now you want to talk. Weren’t you the one that said that the up-side of our relationship was that we didn’t have to?’
‘Do you want sit here in silence for the next ten minutes and think about your stomach?’
‘No,’ I say, breathing out. ‘What should we talk about?’
‘How about today’s football? Reading have got a good shot.’
‘Anything but football,’ I say groaning. I’d rather think about my belly.
‘OK, do you think I should dye my hair? Go a bit blonder?’
‘I think your hair’s already quite blond.’
‘Oh no, I don’t mean on my head. I mean—’
‘Stop talking. I’ve changed my mind about the talking.’
‘Whatever.’
Another thirty seconds tick by but I realise that I can’t take the silence.
‘Did you always want to be an influencer?’ I ask.
Since I spoke with Marissa I’ve been thinking a lot about why I started and why I keep going.
‘Not really. I joined Insta as I thought it would get me more women.’
‘Deep,’ I say.
‘What were you expecting me to say? That I did it because I was woefully unconfident and online I could be someone that people actually liked?’
He says it quietly and I wonder if there’s any truth in it. I’m convinced he thinks mainly with his dick, but every so often I get glimpses that there’s more to him. In those tiny moments, like when he passed me a flannel for my forehead when I was sick, or when he reached out to a charity close to my heart, I see flashes of who he could be.
‘Of course I only did it for the women and the fame,’ he says in a slightly less confident way than usual.
‘Do you think you’ll ever settle down?’ I ask him.
‘I dunno. If I met the right woman. That’s the cliché, right?’
‘It only takes one woman to change a man,’ I say, thinking it would take one hell of a woman in Luke’s case.
‘It’s hard, though, isn’t it, to think that you’d be enough for one person. I mean, how do you know that they wouldn’t get bored or see through you?’
He looks at me and it’s like I see the real him for the first time. The door bursts open and Jacinda breezes in with towels on a tray and by the time I look back at Luke, the vulnerability on his face is gone.
‘All OK?’ she asks, defusing the mood.
‘Fine,’ we mumble.
‘Good,’ she says, rubbing a flannel over our faces. ‘Just a little longer and then you can get out and shower.’
‘Do you mind if I get out now?’ I ask. The heat is getting to me and I don’t feel quite right. Plus I want to shower without Luke.
‘Sure, I’ll get a wrap.’
She holds out a long cloth and helps to pull me out. It’s so slippy underfoot, but she wraps me up like a mummy and leads me over to the shower.
‘Are you staying in, Luke?’ calls Jacinda.
‘Yeah, I’m fine.’
‘OK, Izzy, there are fresh towels for when you’ve finished and after you can lie down in the room on the left.’
I thank her and start scrubbing away at the mud. It feels quite therapeutic to get it all off. Any other day I’d take my time, but today I’m under pressure; I need to get to the bathroom.
I manage to get as much off as possible and find the nearest loo. Bloody spring rolls.
By the time that I make it back into the relaxing room, Luke is flat out on one of the beds, fast asleep.
Jacinda follows me in.
‘He didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,’ I say before realising how awful that sounds. She gives me a little smile.
‘I’ll leave you two in here then. Heidi and Freda, your massage therapists, will be in in about fifteen minutes.’
‘Massage therapists?’
I really don’t want to be poked and prodded today.
‘Uh-huh, Grant booked you in for a couple’s massage. More special time.’
‘Great,’ I say, pretending to be happy with it.
I lie down on the bed wondering how I’m going to relax and the next thing I know I’m awake and there are two women with long blonde hair tied in matching ponytails standing over me.
‘Hello, ready for your massage?’
I look over at Luke who’s snoring beside me and I give him a nudge.
‘Hey, what’s going on?’
‘Grant’s arranged for us to have a massage.’
He looks up at the blonde women and immediately starts to smile. ‘Work away, ladies,’ he says, ‘work away.’
My body starts to tense and I imagine I’m going to leave this massage more wound up than when I came in.