I wake up the next morning with a wet pillow. For a second I wonder if I’ve cried that many tears that I’ve soaked it, but it smells strongly of chlorine. I shift slightly and realise that the pillow isn’t the only thing that’s wet. My whole bed is damp.
I roll over towards Will to get him to explain what’s going on, but he’s not there.
My head pounds as I furiously try and piece together what went on. The words of the argument float round the room as if on a loop. Him shouting, me crying.
I sit up and try and remember what happened after he left. There was the Moët that tasted pretty good, especially with the inclusion of a few salty tears as I drank.
But that still doesn’t explain the bed being wet.
I hear a knock at the door. Ah, that must be Will, come back to grovel and to admit that he was totally out of order.
‘Hello.’ My voice is hoarse, as if it was used a lot last night. A vision of me singing pops into my mind. Me singing ‘All By Myself’, to be exact, à la Bridget Jones. The memory starts to become clearer, and I realise I was in a bar singing karaoke, belting out the song with a microphone in one hand and a drink in the other.
Uh-oh. Rum cocktails.
I hear the knocking again.
I cough to try to clear my throat.
‘Hello,’ I shout again. ‘Will.’
I know I should get up, but the fact that I’m naked and lying on the bed with what is shaping up to be hangover of the century is doing a pretty good job of stopping me.
Besides, it’s only Will.
‘Hello,’ calls a female voice as the patio door slides open.
It’s not Will. I scramble to gather the sheets around me and make myself semi-presentable.
‘Lexi?’
Josie’s voice echoes around the bungalow.
‘What if she’s choked on her own sick,’ I hear Richard say. ‘We never should have left her alone.’
‘And think how freaked out she would have been if she’d woken up with us and she’d been naked,’ says Josie.
I pull the sheet firmly around me so that there’s not an inch of flesh on display.
The door to my bedroom opens and they audibly gasp as they see me.
‘Ah, Lexi, you’re OK,’ says Josie with relief as she sits down on the edge of the bed next to me.
How did they know that I was naked?
Oh God. Unless we did something last night. What if I went to their room to find comfort and I found something else.
I’m half expecting Richard to climb into bed. But he keeps a respectable distance behind Josie.
I must be looking at him in total panic as he narrows his eyes at me in confusion.
‘Now that we know you’re OK, Lexi, I think I’ll go wait for you both in the restaurant,’ he says.
‘All right, honey, see you soon,’ Josie says, turning round to Richard briefly, before snapping her head back to me. ‘Are you OK, hun?’
I shake my head.
I am not OK. Not only do I have a raging hangover, I have not the foggiest clue what is going on and what we got up to last night.
‘To be expected after all you’ve been through.’
‘And what’s that exactly?’ I say, wrinkling up my face, wondering if my blackout isn’t to do with a hangover but more that I’ve buried my memories in shame.
Josie stares back at me.
‘You know, the break-up.’
‘Yes, I remember that bit of the night. But I don’t know what happened for the rest of it. I have a vague memory of karaoke.’
‘Oh yeah, that was quite . . . special. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, hun, but I don’t think you’ll be auditioning for The X Factor anytime soon. You remember being in the bar, right?’
I cast my mind back.
Apparently, one whole bottle of champagne, downed straight from the bottle, affects your judgement. I remember I went in search of more at the bar and that’s when I saw the karaoke machine in the corner. It seemed like the perfect way to vent my emotions.
But that still doesn’t explain the nakedness or the wet hair . . .
I try and pull the sheet further up over my head as if it’s going to shield me from the shame. Josie tilts her head and pulls a sympathetic expression, and bam, it’s like I’m back there in the bar. I remember.
As I finished my wonderful set on the karaoke machine, I spotted Josie and Richard walking past and I dragged them in. I made them sit there while I told them the whole sorry story – and not the exaggerated version from the blogs – as we all drank cocktails.
But that’s as far as I can remember.
‘Um, so last night, the swimming pool,’ I say, as if testing the water.
‘Uh-huh, that was fun, right?’
‘Right,’ I say. ‘It was just us?’
‘And the other people from the bar. You got us all in. Seemed like such a good idea at the time,’ she says, laughing.
I try and laugh along, but a memory begins to knock at my mind. A boob here. A willy there. Uh-oh – we were all naked.
Joe’s face pops into my mind.
I didn’t make him get in too, did I? But then I remember him being pretty cross and saying something about getting in trouble with the police.
‘You walked me home?’ I say slowly.
‘Yes.’
‘And then you left?’ I say, praying that the skinny-dipping was as bad as it got.
‘Yes, of course. Why wouldn’t we have?’ she says, looking a little confused.
‘Oh, I was just worried, as I can’t remember . . . And you know how yesterday you were telling us about propositioning Jimmy Anderson?’
I don’t want to spell out exactly what I’m thinking.
‘What, about me seeing if he wanted to join us for a nightcap?’
‘A nightcap,’ I say winking. ‘Is that what the kids are calling it these days?’
‘Lexi,’ she shrieks. ‘You did not think that we would do that, do you? What do you take us for, some sort of swingers?’
‘No, of course not,’ I say, trying to back-pedal.
‘When you got back in here you stripped off yourself, and threw your clothes on the floor, before getting into bed. I then hung them out on the balcony to dry off as I left so that they’d be dry enough to pack in your case. That’s why I came over, really. To check if you wanted any help packing?’
Packing? Oh no. We’re flying out tonight.
‘What’s the time?’ I say, in a sudden panic that I’ve slept most of the day away in a hung-over stupor.
‘It’s just gone eleven thirty. We’re supposed to have been out of the bungalows at eleven, and when I checked out, I enquired at reception and they said you were still here. So I thought you might need help. I’m guessing you’re pretty hung-over?’
‘Yeah, pretty much.’
‘Do you remember much of last night?’
‘Far more than I want to,’ I say, wishing I’d had a total blackout.
‘Well, we worked out we’re on the same flight back. You’re going to get a taxi to the airport with us at two thirty. I’ve spoken to the manager and they’re aware of your situation and they said they’d give you until twelve to get yourself ready. So how about you jump in the shower and I’ll start to get your stuff together for you to pack? Then we’ll get you some lunch and get you feeling a bit better. OK?’
I look at Josie and while on the one hand she’s the reason that I’m here alone in the first place, on the other hand, if she wasn’t here right now I’d still be wondering why my hair was damp, and would probably have been forcibly evicted by the cleaning staff. At least she has a plan.
‘Come on, off to the shower with you. I’ll start on the stuff in the lounge area,’ she calls over her shoulder as she leaves the bedroom. I head into the shower, hoping that when I return I’m going to magically feel well and my mind will have been suitably cleansed of everything that happened the night before.
*
‘Now, Miss Hunter, you make sure you come back some time,’ says Joe as we leave the reception. ‘And if you fancy a change of career, I’m sure that we could have an opening for you in hotel entertainment. Karaoke, pool games.’
He adds a wink to his beaming face and I want the ground to open up and swallow me.
I close my eyes for a minute and wish I was wearing ruby slippers that I could tap three times to find myself back at home. But unfortunately for me, my espadrilles don’t seem to hold any magical powers.
At least I’ll never have to see him again.
I’ve had such a busy time of it this morning. Trying to scrub off the embarrassment of last night in the shower, packing up everything, while trying to rid myself of a hangover. Richard and Josie have been chivvying me along and keeping me company, so I haven’t had much time to think about Will and our demise.
The hangover might have subsided, but I’m still angry with him and I can’t imagine how I’m going to spend eight hours sitting next to him on a plane. Hopefully I’ll get lucky, and there’ll be a spare seat on the flight and the cabin crew might take pity on me. You never know, I could tell them my sob story at check-in and they might upgrade me to first class. With England having not made it into the semi-finals yesterday, maybe I’ll sit next to Joe Root and we’ll fall madly in love and therefore I’ll get my ultimate sporting widow’s revenge on Will. But not even that thought cheers me as I can’t imagine being with someone else.
‘Here’s the taxi,’ says Richard, bringing me back to reality.
He loads the cases into the car and Josie and I get into the back while he sits with the driver.
I spend most of the time on the ride to the airport looking out of the window. I try and drown out Richard chatting to the cab driver about the cricket. It’s the exact same conversation Will would have had.
A pain burns in my chest when I think about him. As mad as I am for him blaming me, I still can’t believe it’s over. When we did this taxi journey the opposite way a week ago, I never in a million years imagined I would be coming back without Will.
A tear forms in my eye and I wipe it away quickly before it escapes.
‘You OK, hun?’ asks Josie.
‘I think so.’
I’m lying, but I can’t tell her how I really feel as if I start crying I won’t stop for the rest of the flight.
I don’t want Will to see me like that.
‘You never know, you might sort things out on the plane.’
We could, or we could spend eight hours arguing. But after last night, I’m not sure if we have anything else to say to one another.
‘Or we could always join the Mile High club? I wonder if the three of us would fit in the toilet?’ says Richard, laughing.
Josie told him about my suspicions and he thinks it’s hilarious, making jokes about us having threesomes wherever he can. The only upside is that he’s not being tactile with me any more – maybe it made him realise how he came across.
Josie laughs at his joke, and I half smile, before I turn my head back to look out of the window.
I just want to be at home, but I’ve still got eight bloody hours on a plane before I get there.
I pity whoever is going to be in the seat next to ours. Even if we don’t argue, there’ll be so much tension in the air you’ll be able to cut it with a knife.
‘You know he came back for you yesterday, don’t you?’ says Josie.
‘What? When? Last night?’
‘No, when we were at the beach. Not long after you went off into the trees, he pulled up on the jet ski. He said he felt bad having left you.’
He was furious, and yet he still went to check I was OK. I couldn’t work out how he didn’t beat me to the room, but now I know. I feel my heart breaking that little bit more and I try to blink back the tears.
The taxi arrives at the airport and Josie and I split the fare, paying the driver while Richard wrestles with our luggage.
We walk into the large, bright terminal and I immediately start looking for Will. I scan the backs of the heads in the queue to spot him, but I can’t. He probably won’t turn up for a bit yet anyway – he always leaves it to the last minute.
We shuffle round the queue, my eyes remaining fixed on the airport entrance. Anytime anyone comes in, my heart races, just in case it’s him. The queue behind us is getting larger, and I’m starting to get worried he’ll miss check-in.
‘Next, please,’ bellows a voice from the desk in front of us.
I keep looking at the entrance, before Josie pushes me gently forward.
I wheel my case over and clumsily lift it on to the belt.
‘I’m supposed to be checking in with my boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend. There’s two of us on the reservation, but he’s not here,’ I say quickly.
The woman behind the desk looks from my passport up to my face and raises an eyebrow as if to say she’s heard it all before.
‘I know that we’ve booked seats together, but I don’t suppose there’s any way that I can sit away from him, is there?’
I can’t stand the thought of an argument, or worse, silence. Him ignoring me for eight hours would send me loopy. I’d rather have him out of sight, out of mind.
The woman looks back down at her computer and she starts tapping away at the keyboard.
‘Let’s see,’ she says making a guttural noise. ‘Ah, there’s a note here. Apparently he changed his flight and went out this morning.’
‘He what now?’ I say, a little too loudly. I’m aware that probably everyone in the queue behind me can hear me.
‘He changed his flight,’ she says.
‘But we’ve got the same reservation, how did he do that?’
‘It seems he’s an executive club member. He used some points and paid a balance.’
‘So he’s gone. Just like that?’
‘Yes, he’ll be landing at Heathrow in about half an hour’s time. Not only will you not have to sit next to him but you’ll have a spare seat next to you. Give you some room to spread out.’
She goes back to typing away and I’m left dumbstruck. I know five minutes ago I didn’t want to sit anywhere near him, but I at least wanted him to be here. The fact that he’s abandoned me in Barbados is too much for me to cope with and the floodgates fly open and the tears start to fall.
‘There, there, Lex,’ says Josie, passing me a tissue. ‘You’ll be home soon.’
She clearly heard everything when she was standing at the desk next to mine.
I take the boarding pass that the ground attendant gives to me and I clutch it to my chest, before Josie leads me to Departures.
I glance at the giant billboard of a perfect-looking beach, all white powdered sand and crystal-blue sea, and I instantly think back to my time with Will on the beach a few days ago. That magical moment where I’d realised how perfect my life with him had been. We couldn’t be further from it now if we tried. I shake my head as I read the caption on the poster, ‘Come back soon’. It’s as if it’s taunting me, as there’s no way we’ll go back to that moment, or that level of happiness, ever again.