No-one Ever Has Sex on Holiday: A totally hilarious summer read

by Bloom, Tracy

  ‘Oh my God, Heather,’ exclaimed one of the women sitting next to Abby. ‘That is the cheesiest thing I have ever heard.’

  Heather went bright red. ‘I… I…’ she spluttered. ‘I got it off a website on advice about marriage. I thought it was kind of cute.’ She sat down with a thump.

  Daniel stood up again and gave her a round of applause. ‘Do you know what, I like that,’ he said. ‘It’s so true. You may think to look at me that I’m perfect but I do have my faults and my husband deals with them with style and finesse. I think it’s cute too, very cute.’

  Next came one of Abby’s new best friends, Fi. She burst into laughter several times before she managed to splutter any words out, as though she were back at school and afraid of being seen to try too hard.

  ‘My advice is,’ she said eventually. ‘To think of Ryan Gosling whenever you need to, you know…’ She collapsed into giggles again, falling back in her chair.

  ‘Ryan fucking Gosling?’ said Bridget. ‘Can’t you do better than that?’

  ‘My thoughts entirely,’ agreed Daniel. ‘But Ryan Reynolds? Now you’re talking.’

  ‘Oh my God, yes,’ declared Bridget. ‘Especially in Deadpool. Especially in that outfit.’

  She looked genuinely excited.

  ‘Which one is Ryan Reynolds?’ whispered Katy to Daniel.

  ‘Have you not seen Deadpool?’ he asked her.

  She shook her head.

  ‘You frighten me sometimes,’ he replied. ‘Let’s see. Do you remember the film with Sandra Bullock called The Proposal?’

  ‘Was he the guy in that?’ she asked. ‘The guy who was married to Scarlett Johansson and then married Blake Lively?’

  ‘Yes,’ nodded Daniel. ‘Of course I might have known that you would be able to identify him through his private life rather than his cinematic achievements. I so need to ban you from the Daily Mail website.’

  ‘He’s hot,’ she agreed. ‘Is he hot in Deadpool then?’

  ‘He wears a scuzzy red and black rubber suit.’

  ‘Okay, not his best look then?’

  ‘Most certainly not but clearly Bridget thinks differently.’

  ‘Right, who’s next?’ said Ruth, getting them all to quieten down again. ‘Are you ready, Abby?’ she asked.

  Abby stared at her for a moment.

  ‘You’re amongst friends,’ said Ruth. ‘You’re part of our gang now.’

  Abby slowly stood up and took out her piece of paper. She looked down and swallowed then cleared her throat. She glanced over at Cassie. Katy found herself holding her breath.

  ‘Getting married was the best day of my life,’ she said. Katy let out her breath. ‘Enjoy the day because it will pass so fast,’ she continued. ‘The best thing about being married is… is… the great party you have when you are the centre of attention, the centre of his attention, and you know at that moment you are the most important person on the planet and that is the best feeling.’ She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘My advice is to make the most of that feeling.’

  She sat down with a thump and immediately grabbed her glass and downed her drink. Daniel leapt up and started to fist-pump the air.

  ‘Yeah, Abby,’ he said. ‘You go, girl. You go.’

  Everyone else politely clapped as Daniel sat down.

  ‘You are a regular cheerleader tonight,’ said Katy.

  ‘Well, someone had to lift that out of the gutter, didn’t they? What’s going on with that girl?’

  Katy shrugged. ‘Whatever it is, it isn’t good. That was way deep. Way too deep for Abby.’

  ‘Mmmm,’ agreed Daniel. ‘Abby doesn’t normally do deep, does she?’

  ‘And next it’s Rachel,’ announced Ruth. ‘Come on, girl, up you get.’

  Rachel rose up giggling and steadied herself against the table as she squinted at her piece of paper.

  ‘Not brought my glasses out,’ she muttered. ‘And I can’t remember what I wrote.’

  ‘You idiot,’ said Fi, grabbing at the paper. She held it to her face, trying to make out what was written. ‘How drunk are you?’ she asked. ‘I can’t read a word of it.’

  ‘Give it back,’ protested Rachel, trying to grab it but proceeding to rip the piece of paper in half.

  ‘Bloody shambles,’ muttered Daniel under his breath.

  ‘Just tell us what you wrote,’ said Ruth, checking her watch.

  ‘Well, erm, I think I wrote that she should never ever clean the toilet because, once you do, that’s it, your husband will just think that the cleaning fairies clean the toilet and so will never bother to clean up after himself.’

  ‘Do you know what?’ said Katy to Daniel. ‘I think that is the best advice so far. Seriously.’

  ‘And the best thing about being married is that you don’t have to try any more really, do you? If you want to eat a whole packet of doughnuts you can, or go down the shop in your slippers it doesn’t matter, or if you go out with no make-up, it’s all good. Like, he doesn’t care and he can’t care because he married you, right, in sickness and in health till death do us part, so it means you can do what you like. How immense is that? When I married Jacob it was like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Literally. I didn’t even have to hide the fact any more that I watch Corrie and EastEnders every night. I just watch it and he puts up with it. It’s brilliant being married, honestly, Cassie. You are going to love it!’

  ‘You got married so you didn’t have to hide your soap opera addiction?’ questioned Daniel.

  ‘No!’ protested Rachel. ‘I’m just saying it’s one of the hidden benefits not many people talk about. You know that actually being married gives you a lot of freedom, I reckon.’

  She sat down.

  ‘Daniel?’ said Ruth.

  ‘Yes?’ replied Daniel, still staring at Rachel.

  ‘Would you like to add any pearls of wisdom?’

  ‘Oh, yes, of course. Yes, certainly I would.’ He stood up and straightened his collar. He didn’t pick up his sheet of paper. Katy knew Daniel well – he would have memorised it for maximum impact.

  ‘Cassie, darling,’ he said. ‘I don’t know you well as we only met on the plane, what, two days ago and I am so honoured to be part of this special occasion…’

  Katy put her head in her hands. Why did he always have to make it all about him?

  ‘I got married just under two years ago to my amazing husband Gabriel. We actually had two weddings. We had a not-really-a-wedding wedding in a circus tent, where I told him my love was the size of an elephant, and then we actually got married right here in Spain because Gabriel is Spanish and we came to get married here because his father was marrying Katy’s mother and so—’

  ‘So are you brother and sister?’ asked Bridget.

  ‘Good God no!’ exclaimed Daniel. ‘We’re not related. Only through marriage. My father-in-law is married to Katy’s mother.’

  ‘Right,’ nodded Bridget. No-one spoke as they tried to work that one out.

  ‘Anyway, as I was saying, we had two weddings but that is by the by because you asked for advice on getting married and all I would say is this… and I’d actually like to quote Abby’s husband over there, who made the most moving speech at our not-really-a-wedding. What he said was, and correct me if I am wrong, Abby, but he said, “Love is easy, it’s life that’s hard,’ and what he meant was that as long as you have love you will be fine because that will keep you going through the difficult bits – because you will have difficult bits, Cassie. When Gabriel and I first moved in together it took me some time to make him understand that he didn’t have to do the washing, for example. Now that could have really come between us but we talked it through and we had a hug and now he knows that the cleaner does the washing, but you see, we knew we could get past it because we had love to keep us together. Does that make sense?’

  It was the quietest the table had been all evening.

  ‘You have a cleaner?’ asked Bridget in awe.

  ‘Of cou
rse,’ said Daniel.

  ‘I’ve never met anyone who has cleaner before,’ she said. ‘I know loads of people who are cleaners but never met someone who actually has one. Are you, like, really posh or something?’

  Daniel surveyed Bridget as Katy surveyed Daniel. How on earth was he going to answer that question? She knew that Daniel liked to consider himself as very posh indeed really but she also knew that he was aware that perhaps it wasn’t something to show off about right now.

  ‘No,’ he said eventually. ‘I like to think of myself as classless. I’ve worked hard to get where I am and get myself into a position where I can employ a cleaner and I’m proud of that. I don’t think that makes me posh.’

  ‘I’d like to earn enough money to have a cleaner,’ said Bridget.

  ‘You work hard and it might happen one day,’ said Daniel whilst Katy squirmed.

  Bridget nodded at him earnestly.

  Ruth suddenly blasted on her whistle, making everyone jump.

  ‘Well, I think that’s enough from Daniel,’ she said. ‘Now what about you, Katy?’

  Katy stared up at her like a rabbit in the headlights. Her mind had gone a complete blank the minute that Ruth had laid down the challenge, only capable of bland, pathetic advice unlikely to be useful. Everyone was distracted for a moment as Abby and Fi burst into peals of giggles then refused to share the joke. Katy took a deep breath and stood up.

  ‘I would like to thank you first, Cassie, for inviting us. It’s really very kind of you.’ She heard Daniel humph behind her. ‘And then what I want to say is that… that…’ she glanced over at Abby again. ‘That the key is communication, just talk to each other, whatever you are thinking or feeling, you have to communicate. I can’t tell you how important that is, Abby.’

  ‘Cassie, you mean,’ urged Daniel, tugging on her arm.

  ‘What?’ said Katy, looking at him in surprise.

  ‘You said Abby,’ he said. ‘You mean Cassie, right?’

  ‘Did I?’

  ‘Yes,’ he nodded.

  Christ, thought Katy. She needed to get a grip. ‘Sorry,’ she spluttered. ‘This sangria must be really good,’ she giggled, holding up her glass. ‘Shall we have a toast to… to… communication?’

  Daniel shook his head in despair but nonetheless stood up and raised his glass gallantly.

  ‘Communication,’ he said as everyone murmured after him.

  Katy sat down feeling mortified and took another slug of her drink, wishing the ground would swallow her up.

  ‘And what is the best thing about being married then, Katy?’ asked Ruth.

  Oh God, thought Katy, when would this ever end?

  ‘Right, yes, of course,’ she said, trying to gather herself. She glanced over at Abby, who was giving her a weird look. ‘The best thing about being married actually is having someone to share everything with, especially the babies you make.’ Inexplicably she felt the tears spring to her eyes as an image of Millie and Jack fighting on the bed came to her. ‘Knowing you made them together and they are totally yours and you will share them for the rest of your lives, well, it’s by far the most magical thing about being married.’

  Katy had reduced everyone around the room to silence yet again.

  ‘Not that you have to have children to be happily married of course,’ she added, suddenly panicking that maybe there were women around the table who were married and had either decided not to have kids or couldn’t have them. She quickly scanned the table for signs of distress. Everyone appeared to have switched off and was either chatting amongst themselves or looking into space. Apart from Daniel, who was glaring at her.

  ‘And of course…’ she said, clutching his arm. ‘You know if you can’t actually physically have a baby because you, erm… haven’t got the necessary equipment…’ she trailed off.

  ‘Like a womb,’ said Daniel.

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘I guess that’s what I meant. If you don’t have a womb between you then that’s okay too. Sharing the upbringing of a child, any child, is the most bonding experience you could ask for.’

  ‘Do you have a kid?’ Bridget demanded of Daniel.

  ‘Yes, we do,’ replied Daniel proudly.

  ‘You and your husband?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Her name is Silvie and she is nine months old.’

  ‘How come?’ asked Bridget.

  ‘Do you mean how come we have a baby?’ replied Daniel.

  She nodded.

  ‘We used a surrogate,’ he replied.

  Bridget stared at him for a moment.

  ‘Do you have to have sex with the surrogate and how did you choose who would have to have sex with a woman?’

  Daniel laughed. ‘No, we didn’t have to do any of that. We used artificial insemination. So my husband and I donated sperm.’

  ‘So whose sperm made the baby?’ asked Bridget.

  Daniel looked startled for a moment before he replied. ‘We don’t know,’ he said. ‘We deliberately left it to chance.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Bridget, clearly mulling this revelation over. ‘But you must have an idea,’ she continued. ‘Does she look more like one of you?’

  Daniel stared back at her, looking very uncomfortable. He clearly wasn’t enjoying this line of questioning.

  ‘No, she doesn’t,’ he said firmly before turning to Ruth. ‘I believe it’s your turn,’ he said.

  ‘Well, er, I… well, I don’t normally take part in these things,’ she said. ‘I just run them, because someone has to. I mean, it would all fall apart if I didn’t run them.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ said Daniel. ‘You’ve had just as much time to gather your thoughts on the matter as everyone else and I assume that as you have been on so many hen nights that your views on marriage must be very interesting.’

  Ruth looked dumbfounded.

  ‘Well, er, I think that my advice would be that… that…’ She started shaking her head as if she couldn’t go on but then she suddenly sniffed and gathered herself. ‘Enjoy this bit. Enjoy this week, enjoy your wedding day. It’s the best time of your life. Seriously. And then… and then just don’t forget your mates, hey? You’ll still need them after you’re married. If not more.’ She looked down and swallowed then looked up again with a slightly watery smile.

  Then Ruth blew her whistle again and Katy glanced with horror at her watch: it was eleven o’clock on the dot. The ghetto blaster appeared on the table and spontaneously everyone rose from their seats and staggered towards the back corner of the restaurant.

  Katy sighed and put on her neon headband.

  Chapter Thirteen

  ‘I suppose we’d better go to bed,’ announced Ben suddenly, stirring in his chair in the hotel bar. He must have fallen asleep. He started checking around him for Jack and Millie. Jack was fast asleep in his pushchair and Millie was sitting next to him still plugged into the iPad watching Cinderella. He glanced at his watch: it was nearly eleven o’clock.

  ‘Jesus,’ he said, rubbing his eyes. ‘We really need to go to bed.’ Katy had warned him about not going to bed too late, as she feared that would put the kids in a bad mood all day tomorrow. This could prove catastrophic.

  He nudged Braindead who was sitting on a sofa opposite him, his head lolling back, gently snoring, Logan curled up asleep on his lap.

  ‘Oi,’ he shouted. ‘We need to go to bed.’

  ‘What!’ said Braindead, flinging his eyes open in confusion. ‘Are they back?’

  ‘No, who knows when they’ll be back,’ said Ben. ‘But we really should take these kids to bed and act like the responsible fathers that we are.’

  Braindead clutched his son to his chest. ‘He’s going to play football for Norway, you know,’ he announced suddenly.

  ‘Who is?’

  ‘Logan.’

  ‘How come?’

  ‘I just dreamt it,’ said Braindead. ‘And you will never guess what, but my great granddad was Norwegian and Norway always have a shit football team so i
t could happen, couldn’t it? Perhaps I should look into getting him a Norwegian passport and then, even if he can half-kick a ball, he should get in the national team. Good, eh? My son playing football for his country. I really couldn’t be prouder.’

  Ben was too tired to unpick Braindead’s logic.

  ‘Where are Ollie and Gabriel?’ asked Braindead.

  ‘Oh, they went to change bedrooms and I’ve not seen them since. They must have crashed.’

  Earlier in the evening Ollie had confessed that he was avoiding going to bed as he hated going back to the honeymoon suite on his own and please would someone take it off his hands. Braindead had suggested that they solve it by having a table football tournament, which Ben and Gabriel had agreed seemed like an excellent way to decide who should get the prized room.

  It turned out that Gabriel was a crack hand at table football and trounced them both, for which he had apologised profusely. To be fair, both Ben and Braindead had been hampered by the inclusion of their children in the game. Millie had insisted on playing goalie for her dad but couldn’t get her timing right and so inevitably would begin spinning her man way after the ball had fallen into the hole behind him, much to Ben’s distress.

  ‘No!’ he’d cried the first time it happened. ‘Like this, Millie.’

  ‘But I did do it like that,’ she said.

  ‘But you have to do it quicker,’ responded Ben. ‘Shall I do the goalie and you do mid-field?’

  ‘But I want to be goalie,’ she insisted.

  ‘But you’re not very good at it. We’re losing,’ he replied.

  To which she stuck her bottom lip out. It trembled so alarmingly that Ben was forced to tell her that she was learning very fast and should just keep trying.

  Braindead didn’t fare any better with his son, who demanded having a go at all the handles whenever Braindead let go of one and developed an impressive skill of scoring home goals.

  ‘Goal!!’ shouted Logan at one point.

  ‘Wrong goal,’ shouted Braindead back, trying very hard to suppress his frustration.