Sun, Sea and Sangria

by Victoria Cooke

  I force a smile. ‘I was going to have a wash and get changed. You were just home a little earlier than expected.’

  ‘Don’t get changed, love. You know I love you anyway, and at least I don’t have to worry about other blokes giving you the eye at the pub later.’ He winks.

  I scurry upstairs as tears prick my eyes. My phone is on the bed, flashing with a text message. It’s from Ellie at work.

  You looked stunning today, babe. I bet Iain thought all his Christmases had come at once when he saw you. Have a great night xxx

  Hot tears escape. As I feel them taking the oily make-up down my face with them, I hit delete.

  ***

  I head into the ladies and get to work. I don’t bother with much of the make-up, and quite frankly the 72-hour eyebrow liquid terrifies me. I mean, what if I painted them on wonky? Would I have to stay like that for 72 hours? I’m sure the whole eyebrow trend was manufactured by the make-up industry as a way to sell more products. In the Nineties, we all plucked our eyebrows to a pencil-thin line; then, once we’d all bought tweezers, sales must have dropped, so they had to invent eyebrow liquid to sell to us instead. It makes sense if you think about it. Anyway, I’m not falling into that trap. I’ve got enough body parts to worry about without adding eyebrows to the list.

  I pop a chewing gum into my mouth and gather up Andrea’s mini-makeover salon.

  ‘How do I look?’ I say, plonking the cosmetics on the bar. She’s restocking the fridge but stands up to get a good look.

  ‘How you doin’?’ She winks.

  ‘Ahh, so you’re binge-watching Friends again.’

  She giggles. ‘Yes, could it be any funnier?’

  I give her a weary look.

  ‘Okay, sorry. You look stunning. Now get yourself down to the bar!’

  Chapter 8

  I can’t believe I’m on my second date in as many days. My mother would say there’s a name for people like me, but I don’t care – I’m here and I’m doing this. Andrea said to look out for a tall, well-built man in a dark navy suit. The bar is quiet given that it’s only four o’clock in the afternoon so I spot him straight away.

  ‘Hi,’ I say. ‘I’m Kat.’ Andrea was right; he is incredibly handsome. His hair is probably chin-length but is neatly slicked back with product.

  ‘Kat! Nice to meet you.’ He jumps up and swiftly moves around to pull out my chair.

  Heat flushes my cheeks. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You’re looking radiant.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I repeat, as the back of my neck tingles again. Weird. I don’t think I’ll ever be one of those women who can take a compliment gracefully.

  We mull over the drinks menu in silence, and when the waiter approaches us, Alonso speaks to him in Spanish.

  ‘Is there anything you’d like, or shall I order you a surprise cocktail?’ he asks. He does seem polite and at least gives me a choice, which is good. Fingers crossed no laden remarks about my work will ensue.

  A surprise cocktail? I’m intrigued. Is he a strawberry daiquiri or a Moscow Mule kind of guy?

  ‘Surprise me,’ I say, and why not? It seems to be the theme of the day.

  ‘So, tell me about yourself. How long have you been here? Where are you from in England?’ His English is very smooth, beautifully laced with his Spanish accent.

  He leans forward and rests his arms on the table, so I settle into my seat.

  ‘I’m from Yorkshire originally. I got married but that didn’t work out, and I came over here about eight years ago to make a fresh start. I presume Andrea already told you what I do for a living?’

  ‘She did.’ His face doesn’t slacken into some creepy leer like Mike’s did, which is a start. ‘I think it’s great what you do. I’ve heard all about the Heavenly Hunks and think it’s fantastic what you’ve achieved.’

  My chest puffs a little and I look him in the eyes. ‘Thank you, that means a lot. I’ve worked hard and the guys are just fantastic. I really enjoy it.’

  The waiter brings our cocktails over and places them down on little white serviettes. He puts some peanuts in the centre of the table and walks off.

  ‘You know what they say about bar nuts?’ I pull a face.

  He frowns. ‘No, what do they say?’

  ‘That they’re bacteria-ridden because of all the unwashed hands that have been in them. Although, I think I might have learnt that fact from a movie at some point.’ Ben Stiller springs to mind.

  ‘These here are fresh, I can guarantee it.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘This is my bar,’ he says casually, before grabbing a handful of peanuts. ‘We put out brand-new nuts with each order.’

  ‘Ahh, okay. So these are safe?’ I grab a handful of my own. ‘I was just about to ask what you did. Andrea said you were in business.’

  ‘Yes, the bar business. I have a chain of cocktail bars throughout the Canary Islands, so I travel around a lot and work long, unsociable hours. I suppose that’s why I’m still single.’ He forces a laugh, and I find myself warming to him.

  ‘That makes sense,’ I say. I suppose it would be easy to write a guy like Alonso off as being a bit of a player. I imagine if I ever did settle down, the hours I work could be an issue too. It’s not something I’ve worried about before.

  I take a sip of my cocktail. ‘Mm, this is good. What is it?’

  ‘It’s one I picked up when I travelled to Ibiza. It’s Aperol, soda, cava, mint and orange. An Aperol twist on the mojito. I call it the Aperol Zest.’

  We chat over the drinks and Alonso orders us another round. Before I know it, it’s seven o’clock.

  ‘Goodness, I didn’t realise the time. I’m going to have to go and get ready for the show tonight.’

  ‘Of course. I’m heading over to one of my other premises too; I have a new manager to meet with, but I’ve enjoyed meeting you. I’d like to do this again if you would?’

  I get a flutter of excitement. Mike was attractive until he opened his mouth but Alonso is next-level handsome. It’s hard to believe someone like him is even asking someone like me. I’d half expected him to end the date with a polite ‘I’ll see you around’.

  ‘I’d love to.’

  We swap numbers, and when I stand up, I feel a little woozy. I’ll have to have a strong coffee when I get back to the apartment.

  Alonso escorts me outside and stops by a very low, very expensive-looking red sports car. I don’t know or care much about cars but even I know that it’s fancy.

  ‘I’ll see you soon.’ He leans over and kisses my cheek before opening the door.

  ‘Bye,’ I say. He starts the engine and there’s a thunderous roar. ‘Bloody hell,’ I mutter under my breath as he drives off.

  On my way home, I catch up on all my messages. Ant can’t find his white T-shirt, Andrea is desperate to know how the drinks went, and then there are a few emails.

  Dear Kat,

  I say this with a heavy heart, but we’re going to have to cancel the next block of shows booked across our chain. Our bookings have really taken a hit this year and I can’t guarantee we’ll sell enough show tickets to break even. I’m sorry. I hope things turn around for us all soon.

  Best wishes,

  Marco

  General Manager

  Sunseeker Resort and Leisure group

  My heart thumps in my chest. ‘What the …?’ I whisper.

  The Sunseeker chain is four hotels. Each one had booked four shows over the winter season. That’s sixteen shows wiped off our calendar before Christmas, coupled with the two other cancellations I’ve already had. Even with the ten per cent cancellation fee imposed, I can’t afford to keep me and the guys in accommodation if I don’t think of something to fix this mess.

  Chapter 9

  ‘Okay, everyone. I have something to tell you.’ We’re waiting for a minibus to pick us up and take us to the ferry port. My stomach is knotted, but the words are out there now, no turning back. I’ve got to b
e up-front and honest about the gigs that have been cancelled.

  ‘Actually, so have I,’ Pauw interrupts. I wasn’t expecting that. It’s taken me all morning to work up to telling them about the cancellations and now Paul has taken the wind out of my sails.

  ‘After you,’ I say. I’m not procrastinating in the slightest. Honest.

  ‘I just wanted to say to everyone that I’m sorry I was so down about the competition yesterday. If you guys want to do it, I’m in.’

  There are a few cheers from the others, and Ant slaps him on the back.

  ‘You never know, if we get some good publicity we might get on This Morning with Holly and Scofe,’ Marcus says.

  ‘That’s it – you dream big,’ Jay teases. As he laughs, his eyes catch mine and linger for a second.

  ‘Anyway, what did you want to say, Kat?’ Sammy asks. I can’t go and spoil this high everyone is on now. Maybe I’ll give it a day or two, and broach it then.

  ‘Taxi,’ Hugo says as the minibus pulls up by the entrance to the apartment building.

  ‘Okay, Gran Canaria, here we come!’ Marcus shouts, and with that, the moment is well and truly gone.

  Once we’re on board the ferry, everyone scatters about. Food is sourced, beer is sipped and headphones are plugged in. I take a seat by the window and check my phone. There’s a text message from Alonso, which surprises me in a good way.

  Hi Kat, just wanted to wish you a safe journey to Gran Canaria. It would be great to catch up soon. Alonso xx

  I double-check – yes, two kisses. There’s a little fluttery feeling in my chest.

  Before I tap out a reply, I check around me. I’d like to keep this private for now.

  Thanks – it’s supposed to be calm seas ahead! I’d love to catch up. We’re in Gran Canaria for 2 weeks, then we fly to Lanzarote for a week but we’ll sort something out xx

  With a fizz of excitement, I press send before I regret the kisses.

  ‘Hey, Kat, I got you a beer.’ Marcus slumps in the seat beside me.

  ‘Cheers, my dear.’ I smile. Marcus is mixed race with shaved black hair and the most intense green-brown eyes you’ve ever seen. In fact, you shouldn’t ever see them – you should never look directly at them because if you do, you’re in trouble. The kind of trouble that requires peeing on a stick and a serious chat with your parents. The age gap between him and me, however, is great enough that I’m immune to this allure.

  ‘You’ve been in love, haven’t you, Kat?’

  This is a surprising question coming from him.

  ‘Yes.’ I draw out the word. I suppose I was at the time.

  ‘I think I’m in love.’ He throws his head back against the headrest.

  ‘What? With who?’ I can’t hide my surprise. This is Marcus the man-slut we’re talking about.

  ‘Don’t judge me, but it was a girl I met after a show a few nights ago.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘A one-night stand?’

  He gives me a look.

  ‘Well, come on,’ I say with a sigh.

  Marcus proceeds to tell me at great length about the girl in question.

  ‘We chatted for hours and then we went up to her room and—’

  I hold up my hand. ‘Don’t need to know that bit, Marc.’

  The corner of his mouth lifts. ‘Anyway, we talked, all night. The other thing did happen, but it wouldn’t have mattered if it didn’t. Now I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s in my dreams and everything but she’s going home to England soon.’

  ‘Do you know what I think?’

  ‘Am I going to like it?’

  ‘I don’t care.’ I cast him a sideways glance and he grins. He likes it when I’m direct. They all do and although it makes me feel really old, I am almost a mother figure to some of them. ‘You’re not in love. You’re infatuated because you actually connected with someone using more than your penis.’

  He opens his mouth to protest and I hold up my index finger. I’m not done. ‘If you spent more time trying to connect with women on a verbal level, you would see that and you’d get far more from it than a few minutes of fun.’

  ‘Minutes!’ He feigns outrage.

  ‘Just stop sleeping around. If you’re feeling lonely and want to be with someone, go on some dates and don’t go further than a goodnight kiss for the first few … at least!’

  ‘What if you’re wrong and this girl is the one.’

  ‘This girl is going back to another country soon. I think the fact you feel like this about her shows you’re ready for something more. I know it’s easy to have a one-night stand out here. The rules don’t feel the same as they do back home and let’s face it, you’re not short of offers, but it’s meaningless. What about the poor girls too? They might sleep with you but many of them probably expect a call back or a date afterwards or something.’

  He shrugs. ‘It’s just mutual fun. It’s all consensual, Kat.’

  ‘I know, and God help you if it wasn’t. You’d be praying to be locked up if I got hold of you before the police! I just mean, if a girl watches your show and you have a drink with her after, and one thing leads to another, she might feel you value her more than you do.’

  ‘I always just assumed they wanted the same as me.’

  ‘Some might, but not everyone. If you have to do it, at least tell them first that you won’t call them again – let them decide if a one-night stand is what they’re looking for too.’

  ‘I suppose what you’re saying makes sense. But what if this girl is the one?’

  ‘Did you get her number?’

  ‘Yes, I always do.’

  I roll my eyes. ‘And then never call anyway? Well, give it a few days and if you’re still thinking about her, call. If not, delete the number.’

  ‘I suppose I could do. She’ll be back home by then though.’

  ‘Feelings are feelings. There are plenty of ways to stay in touch and have a long-distance thing.’

  ‘I don’t know how you do it.’

  ‘What?’ I say.

  ‘Manage to change my whole opinion about something in just a few minutes.’

  I wink at him. ‘Older and wiser.’

  ‘Thanks, Kat. I think it’s time you got yourself a good seeing to as well.’ He grins.

  ‘Oi! That’s enough of that.’ I tap him playfully on the back of his head. ‘Now bugger off and give me some peace.’

  He laughs and jumps up. ‘See you in a bit.’

  When he’s gone, I close my eyes and it isn’t long before I drift off.

  ***

  ‘You’re home late,’ I say as Iain walks in. It’s half seven and I know for a fact his office is always locked up by six.

  ‘It’s not that late. Just got a bit of extra work done, called for petrol and that kind of thing.’

  I shrug. There’s no point pressing him and turning the conversation into a row.

  ‘Did you take the glass to the bottle bank?’ I ask instead.

  He creases his brow and reels in a way that suggests I’m nuts. ‘You were supposed to be doing that.’

  Wait, what? We had a conversation about it last night and I specifically told him I couldn’t because I was doing a sponsored cycle to work. He said he’d do it. I can’t tell if he’s genuinely forgotten the conversation or if he’s trying to defend not doing the job.

  ‘Kat,’ he says softly as he sits on the sofa beside me, ‘I’m getting worried about your memory.’

  He can’t be serious. ‘What?’

  ‘I think you’re under a lot of stress at work and it’s taking its toll. I know you’re working hard to try and prove yourself but …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s hard for me to say this to you and I’m only saying it because I love you.’ His tone is calm, almost soothing. ‘I think you’re finding it so hard because you’re just not good enough. Like if I tried to swim the channel – I could put my all into it but I still wouldn’t make it.’

  ‘But—’

  �
��Shh, it’s okay. I’m here for you and I’ll keep us afloat financially.’ He pulls me into a hug. When I try again to remember the conversation about bottles, it’s foggy. Maybe I did say I’d take them after I got home from work. Did I make the whole conversation up in my head? What if Iain is right – what if I’m losing my mind?

  ***

  I jolt forwards. The ferry’s horn is blasting as we approach the dramatic cliff-lined coast of Port Morgan, and people are already gathering their things. Ant and Pauw stand nearby laughing. My stomach knots. I still need to tell them all about the cancelled gigs, and soon.

  We dump our bags in the large apartment I’ve rented. It’s a three-bed and the living room sofa converts into a double. It’s a bit of a squeeze for us all but I wanted to keep costs down. Nobody questions it.

  The hotel we’re performing at tonight has let us use their entertainment lounge to rehearse in, so after unpacking, we head over.

  ‘If we’re going to enter this competition, we need to give it our all in rehearsals,’ I say when we get there. ‘I want to see sharp, seamless transitions, crisp moves and accurate timings. Remember the beats and if you get a mental block – backflip, or grind if you’re Sammy and can’t. Any questions?’

  When nobody replies, I go into my introduction and we run through the show from the top.

  ‘Kat.’ Ant’s voice is low when he comes over to me during a comfort break.

  ‘What’s up?’ I ask.

  He looks around to make sure nobody else is listening. ‘It’s a bit embarrassing really, but I was just wondering if there’s any chance of a pay rise, for me and the boys I mean. We’ve been talking and we know you pay us all fairly and everything, but if we could maybe charge more for tickets or if there’s anything in the pot or whatever …’

  I feel to the heat of blood rushing to my face.

  ‘It’s just that a few of us would like to think about next steps, getting on the property ladder and what have you. We can’t stay at the apartment complex forever – it’s been fun and everything but I sort of feel like I want to have my own space – furniture and stuff.’