Why hasn’t Daniel called me? That’s what I can’t get out of my head. He’s unblocked now, so why isn’t he trying my phone non-stop? If he called me, it would make me feel sick, I’d panic, I wouldn’t answer, I never want to speak to him again… but why hasn’t he called? Why doesn’t he care? How can our four years together mean so little to him that he could ruin our wedding and then not call me, not to apologise, or explain, or even just make sure I’m okay?
I know that Freddie is gorgeous and it’s a very odd coincidence that he is here on his own too, but how can I go for dinner with him, with all this on my mind, and with all this work to do?
It’s a nice idea, but I think I just need to keep myself to myself. I’m sure Freddie will be fine – after all, he did come here unaccompanied too. The thing I can’t help but wonder though, is… I know why I’ve come here on my own, but what is Freddie running away from?
10
Day 4
Today is a new day, and the first proper day that I have left my suite during the daylight hours. The sun is shining, there isn’t a cloud in the sky, and there’s a wonderful breeze.
I might not be loved-up, but I have fallen in love with Valentine Island this morning. I got up early, had a shower, put on my gorgeous new cream sundress and a brave face, and left the safe confines of the villa to explore the island.
In the glorious light of day, I can see that the top part of the driveway to the luxury villas is lined with white columns. Neat green hedges sit on top of them, forming archways. With the warm sun gently beaming down on me, my mood feels lifted. I weave in and out of the columns for fun, high on the smell of sea air. There’s just something about feeling the sun on your shoulders and filling your lungs with the salty scent of the ocean that instantly relaxes a person – you can’t beat it.
On the right-hand side of the wall is an army of trees, the start of the island’s massive forest, where you can bike, hike or just lose yourself in nature. On the left is where the built-up part of the island is.
I reach the first viewing point, a third of the way down the road. I’m still quite high up, so from here I can see everything. Between where I am and the ocean, I can see the villas, the restaurants, the swimming pools and tennis courts. I can see the beach, which already looks alive with people.
As I near the main ‘town’ part of the resort I hear a strange noise. A sort of squeaking sound, coming from the bushes. I move towards it cautiously, but when I peer inside the bushes and see what was making the noise, I melt. Not even the hot summer sun could cause me to melt so effectively – not like kittens! Lying in a little pile on the floor are four tiny little kittens. Tabby cats, with adorable white noses and cute little white tummies. They can’t be very old, and I imagine they’re strays. Someone has placed a little brown saucer next to them. I imagine it had food for the mum on it when they placed it down, but it’s all gone now. It’s comforting to know that someone is looking after them, even if their mum isn’t around. They are sleeping now, so I don’t touch them. I leave them in peace and go on my way. I don’t think I’ll be able to resist coming back to see them when they’re awake though.
I notice a place called Sabatini, which must be one of the many Italian restaurants that the island boasts. The feeling of walking into an air-conditioned room, after being outside in the hot sun, is a real rush. The gentle sensation change, from your head to your toes, is a real wave of something inexplicably wonderful. I might start walking in and out of buildings, just to get that high.
The waiter who greets me seems a little taken aback that I’m here to eat breakfast on my own, but he shows me to a table. He asks if someone will be joining me, but I say no. He doesn’t ask any questions.
I love how leafy and green everything is here, inside and out. Inside the restaurant, a variety of plants line the walls and hang from the ceilings. I love the way they smell; it makes the air seem so clean.
I order a cornetto – an Italian pastry, a little bit like a croissant, but much softer, which is filled with a really thick, really yellow creamy custard. It is absolutely delicious, and complemented perfectly by the cappuccino I wash it down with.
I can feel my stress and tension melting away. I’m feeling lighter by the minute, but I’ll bet a massage would make me feel even better even quicker. I know that there is a spa inside the hotel building. I think a massage is just what I need, to usher me those final few steps into holiday mode. The right pair of hands will have no problem, working my worries out of my tight neck and shoulders.
I feel the cool air con as I walk through the doors, but this time it is accompanied by the gorgeous smell of cocoa butter. Now I really do feel as if I’m on holiday. I want slathering in it, from head to toe.
But as I talk to the spa employee sitting behind the front desk, I feel my stress taking hold of me even tighter.
‘You only do couples’ massages?’ I reply in disbelief.
‘This is a romance resort,’ the girl behind the desk informs me. She is a young Italian girl, in a bright pink uniform. Her eyebrows are almost as severe as her fake tan – imagine, being orange with fake tan when you live in such a warm, sunny country.
‘So you only offer massages for two people?’
‘Well, yes,’ she replies. ‘Technically.’
‘What if only one person wants a massage?’ I ask.
‘They are couples’ massages,’ she tells me again. ‘People don’t come to Valentine Island to do things without their partner. No one has ever asked before…’
I don’t think this poor girl knows what to say.
‘So, I can’t just have both people massage me at once?’ I ask.
‘Are you sure you’d rather not come back with your partner?’ she asks. ‘Most partners are happy to accompany their loved ones.’
My partner couldn’t even be faithful to me – that’s pretty much rule one in the couples’ handbook. Amazing, really, that there are people out there willing to do things they don’t want to do, just to make their significant others happy. I could never get Daniel to do anything he didn’t want to do.
I’m sure that, if I pushed for it, they wouldn’t refuse me a massage, but it’s the fact that she said no one comes here alone, people’s partners love to come with them… I feel embarrassed, as if they’re probably thinking my partner doesn’t want to be here with me. Technically he doesn’t and that realisation washes waves of sadness, anger and embarrassment over me. I give up and double back to a tourist information board I saw earlier. I might not be able to get a massage, but I’m sure there are plenty of things I can do.
Looking over the board, I realise that perhaps there aren’t plenty of things for me to do. It really does seem to be the case that every single thing to do here is designed with couples in mind. Everything here involves two people, from the sports to the relaxation events. Even the yoga sessions show poses that involve couples – what am I going to do, turn up on my own and just pointlessly lie back with my legs in the air? That sounds like my sex life. No, thank you.
I hear the ringing of a bicycle bell, so I quickly move out of the way. Two men cycle past me on a tandem bike.
‘Buongiorno,’ one of them calls to me.
Bloody hell, even the bicycles are built for two.
You worry, in the real world, whether your worth as a person is attached to your relationship status. You know that it shouldn’t be, but as women we are raised to believe that we need to find a man. I suppose we do, in a technical sense, for some reasons. If we want to have kids, for example, it is unfortunate but only men have one of the key ingredients. Of course, there are other ways to go about it if you are single, but it’s nice to have a significant other, someone to make you feel loved and always have your back.
Being single isn’t really something people aspire to be, it’s what we are by default. It is human nature to want to find someone, and to feel disappointed if you can’t, or if things don’t work out. Naturally, you feel (wrongly) like a lit
tle bit of a failure if you can’t find the right person for you. I can’t make you feel better – you’re not going to take relationship advice from someone like me, are you? Look at the mess I’m in – but I can promise you that you can feel worse. Come to Valentine Island, if you want to see how small and insignificant you are. Here, I’m too single to even ride a bike.
There are some things I can do here that don’t require a significant other. I can go to the shops, buy loads of food, and go back to my villa and eat it.
I could’ve bloody done that at home though!
11
Obviously I forgot to turn the air conditioning on before I left the villa, so it’s like walking into an oven when I arrive back. It’s so warm in here, I’m surprised my dildo hasn’t wilted.
I pull open the bi-folding doors. It’s very warm outside, but it’s even warmer indoors. There’s no way I can sit in here, not until it cools down a little.
I slip off my sundress to reveal my bikini. One of the best things about being on holiday is taking a holiday from your bra too. I like to wear mine for as little time as possible while I’m away somewhere warm, and a bikini is a great way to do that.
Outside my villa’s back door, I have my own little sunbathing area, sectioned off by trees, right by the pool, so I grab my sunglasses and my bag of food shopping and head outside to hole up on my sunlounger.
The hot floor tiles outside burn the bottoms of my feet as I literally hotfoot to my seat. Right as I get there, I notice Freddie swimming laps of the pool. I’m about to dash right back where I came from when he spots me.
‘Hey, Lila,’ he calls out.
‘Hello,’ I reply politely as I take my seat. Well, I can’t go back inside now, or he’ll know I’m avoiding him.
As I take out my drink and my bag of crisps, I notice him swimming towards my edge of the pool. When he gets close, he rests his arms on the side and his chin on his arms.
‘What you got there?’ he asks, nodding towards my lunch.
‘Prickly pear San Pellegrino and San Carlo crisps.’
‘Ooh, nice,’ he replies. ‘I haven’t had potato chips in a long time. I’ve been on a diet.’
‘Yeah, so have I,’ I tell him. ‘That’s why I’m eating them now. The diet is officially over.’
‘I’m on vacation, right? I should be allowed some chips.’
‘Do you want some?’ I ask.
I watch him ponder whether or not it’s a good idea. A mischievous look spreads across his face. You can tell he wants to say yes.
‘Don’t let me lead you astray,’ I quickly add. ‘I only wanted one bag but they only sold twin packs.’
‘You sound mad about that,’ he says, furrowing his brow.
‘Yeah, I wouldn’t normally be mad about bonus crisps,’ I admit. ‘It’s just this bloody place.’
‘Well, you seem like you need a chat and I seem like I need some chips, so I will join you,’ he says, before hurrying out of the pool like an excited little kid.
I wasn’t technically asking him to join me, I was just going to give him some of my surplus crisps. I can’t really bring myself to hurt his feelings, now that he’s sat down on the sunlounger next to me.
‘So, why are you so upset you got a good deal on some potato chips?’ he asks as he opens the bag.
I catch myself staring at the droplets of water rolling down his body and I tell myself off. His eyes are up there, Lila. His cool, sexy blue eyes…
‘It was just the last straw today,’ I tell him. ‘I got up earlier, I had a real spring in my step, I was excited for the day ahead.’
‘And then?’ Freddie asks between mouthfuls.
‘I thought I’d get a massage, except I can’t because I’m single,’ I tell him. ‘Thought I’d go for a bike ride but, nope, I can’t, because I’m single. All the sports – not that I even want to play any – but they’re all doubles sports, for couples!’
‘I know!’ he replies enthusiastically. ‘This is exactly what I’ve been up against since I got here. All I can do is hang out here, swim, go to the beach, visit the bars. I wanted some peace and quiet, but I suppose I’ve got too much here.’
‘We’re worthless because we’re here solo,’ I tell him.
‘We’re not worthless,’ he replies. ‘But I take your point.’
‘I thought I’d be able to go on my honeymoon on my own and have fun, but without my fiancé… I can’t do anything. I’m starting to think that’s going to be a theme, moving forwards.’
‘What happened with your fiancé?’ he asks, before adding quickly, ‘If you don’t mind my asking.’
‘We were supposed to be getting married – in a matter of minutes actually. I was buzzing, nothing was going to get me down. My niece lost her flowers and I said I’d go and get them for her, rather than trust anyone else with it – I figured they’d get distracted or lost, or something. I didn’t want to leave anything to chance, so I made sure I had full creative control over everything. I managed everything on the day… The only thing that wasn’t my responsibility was Daniel, my fiancé. All he had to do was put on his suit and turn up. Oh, and I suppose be honest and faithful and not shag our friend.’
‘Oh,’ he replies.
‘Oh indeed,’ I say. ‘So I went to find the flowers and, just by pure chance, there he was, hiding behind a bloody bush, talking with her, about how they loved each other and blah blah blah.’
I’m a little sick of going over and over it now.
‘Lila, that’s so awful. I am so sorry. What an awful way to find out too.’
‘It was awful, but I feel so relieved I found out at all,’ I reply.
‘So no one had any idea?’
There’s a thought. I hadn’t considered whether any of our friends might know. I suppose Gerry, his best friend/best man could have been in on the secret. It makes sense that he would confide in someone and, now that I think about it, he must’ve provided him with a few cover stories from time to time. I wonder about the others in our friendship group. I’d bet my life there’s no way Ali would’ve known; she has no time for cheaters, which I really appreciate. That’s the way it should be, right? Whatever consenting adults want to get up to is absolutely fine, so long as everyone is happy with it and no one gets hurt.
There’s a sincerity in Freddie’s voice. Halfway through that, I worried I might regret telling him as soon as I’d got the words out, but I’m glad I did. It’s nice to talk about it, or perhaps it’s not nice to talk about it, but it is just nice to talk to someone generally.
‘Thanks,’ I say.
‘You get much work done?’ he asks me, changing the subject.
‘I did not,’ I admit.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I’m not doing a very good job of cheering you up, am I?’
‘No, but the crisps are,’ I joke.
‘It’s nice to see you smile,’ he says. ‘That first night, when we met, you seemed so happy. You did think you were in with a bartender, though, I suppose.’
‘Yeah, I’m sorry if I was a bit weird. That was my wedding day, actually. I came straight here.’
‘Wow, so this is all still pretty raw, then,’ he says. ‘Tell you what, I was going to have another stab at seeing if you wanted to go for dinner with me, but I totally get why you might want to be by yourself now. So I’m going to leave you, and if you want some company, just shout, okay?’
‘Okay, thanks,’ I reply.
‘And thanks for the chips,’ he says, heading back over to his side of the garden. ‘I’m going to need to swim for another hour now.’
I smile at him, even though he’s walking away.
Freddie can’t help but hide that he feels sorry for me – I’d feel sorry for me too, so I can’t be annoyed by his pity.
It might be nice to have someone to have dinner with… but I just can’t. I can’t bring myself to go for dinner with a man; it doesn’t feel right. And I know that he isn’t romantically interested in me. I mean, look a
t him. He looks like a Greek god and I look like a Greek vase.
It just doesn’t feel right… and the way I’m feeling now, I'm not sure it ever will.
12
This holiday is proving to be neither a fun distraction from my life nor a distraction-free writer’s retreat. I’m not relaxing. I’m not getting any work done. I’m not really sure where I fall between these two opposites, but I’m not really having much fun.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had any fun… that first night with Freddie, to the best of my memory, was a lot of fun, and chatting with him earlier today was sort of nice, just to have some human interaction with someone who wasn’t rejecting me from a spa or selling me crisps in bulk.
I’m not surprised I’m having trouble writing a romance novel, after everything I’ve been through. I’ve had the occasional bout of stress-related writer’s block in the past – never anything like this though. What usually helps me is to relax, so I’m going to try and do a bunch of the little things I would usually do to try and chill myself out. I always work better when I’m chilled.
Normally I would just try a couple of techniques, but these are not normal circumstances, so I’m going to try every last thing I can think of – that I’m capable of doing alone, at least.
I’ve finally cracked open the welcome champagne that was left in the bedroom for my husband and me. Well, it’s not as if he’s really supposed to be turning up late, as I told the guy on Reception, is it? And I’m not exactly saving it for any gentleman company. So I’ve poured myself a glass, while I’m running my bath.
Booze – check. Bath – check.
The bathroom here is amazing, because of course it is, because everything here is amazing apart from their policy on single people.
The bath is taking a little longer to fill than your average bath, because this bath is huge. I’d imagine it was built with two people in mind, just like everything else. So I’ve got two people’s amount of champagne in a bath big enough for two people – I finally feel like I’m winning again.
Honeymoon for One Page 7
