by Zoe May
‘Shut up, Nat!’ Will pushes my hand away, trying hard not to smile.
I’m acutely aware of the feel of his fingers against mine. He’s only lightly brushing my hand away and yet his touch makes me feel girlish and self-conscious all over again, adding lust back into the heady mix of feelings already whirling around my mind.
‘I was just trying to say, that I haven’t had any of those issues with you,’ Will says, smiling.
‘You mean, you’re relieved I haven’t wanted to sit on my arse in an Irish pub scoffing fry-ups and not do any sightseeing?’
‘Yeah!’ Will laughs. ‘Basically.’
‘Haha, well, you’re welcome!’ I grin, turning my attention back to my book. ‘Can’t promise I won’t dare you to get a pajazzle later though,’ I add, still unable to concentrate.
Will laughs. ‘Gotta be done. Our honeymoon be without a pajazzle. Maybe we could get each other’s names done?’ Will suggests.
‘Or just “Mr” and “Mrs”? Ultimate tackiness.’
‘Perfect,’ Will replies.
I look back down at my book, which at this rate is never going to get read. I focus hard on trying to read although now all I can think about is Will’s private parts, albeit covered in diamanté. I need to stop thinking about that. Right. Focus on the book. I force myself to read another few lines but nothing’s going in.
‘Nat,’ Will pipes up again.
‘Yeah?’ I reply, without looking up from my book. I’m determined I’m going to read at least a chapter while on this holiday and a sentence would be a good start!
‘I mean it, you are a good travel companion,’ Will says.
‘Thanks, Will,’ I reply blankly, still trying to read. ‘You too.’
‘I know I shouldn’t say this, but there are times I’ve enjoyed this fake honeymoon more than my real one,’ Will remarks.
My heart lurches. ‘Ha! Well, I guess it helps that I’m not off riding horses!’
Suddenly Will’s hand is on mine, properly on mine. He takes my hand gently from my book and laces his long, tapered fingers through mine. I watch as though in slow motion. He’s not messing around like he was a minute ago, he’s being genuinely affectionate. I look across the pool for Medhi and Amira in case this is some kind of show he’s putting on for them, but they’re nowhere to be seen. Mohammed is still engrossed in his game of solitaire. I look up at Will. His eyes have sharpened in intensity. They’re sincere, affectionate, almost loving. What’s going on?
Will slides his fingers further through mine, interlocking our hands, and although every part of me yields to his touch, another part of me wants to dive into the pool and swim away as fast as possible. What is he doing?
‘You’re a good companion,’ Will says. He strokes one of his fingers over mine.
Instinctively, I yank my hand away. ‘A good companion?’ I utter, half-laughing, half-expecting him to have simply been messing around.
Will frowns, looking a little hurt. ‘Yeah. Or maybe you don’t think so.’
‘Oh God,’ I sigh.
Part of me wants nothing more than to kiss Will, to hold hands with him, say sweet nothings, and more, and yet at the same time, the idea of actually doing that is as terrifying as it is enticing. It’s not just a physical thing with Will. It’s not just a holiday romance or a silly fling. He gets to me. He gets under my skin. He broke my heart when I was 16 and it took me years to get over it and he still has power over me. I could just about bounce back when I was a teenager, with no responsibilities beyond schoolwork, but what about now? The feelings I have for him are still intense, and yet I can’t take any more heartbreak. Not after Leroy. Not now I have Hera to worry about. A business to manage. A life to lead.
‘I’m sorry, Will.’ A lump hardens in my throat as I get up and hurry away.
Chapter 15
Lauren. Where is she when I need her?
I sit in the hotel restaurant where the WiFi is strongest and type messages to on my phone, but she’s not online. The last message she sent was last night – one I chose to ignore.
Lauren: Sooo … Have you hoped aboard the cruise ship yet?! :p
Typical Lauren. If only it were that easy. If only I could just have a fling with Will and not be the overthinking mess that I am. I need to talk to her and try to wrap my head around all of the feelings swirling inside my head, but she must be busy. I know my mum would probably reply if I messaged. She sent me half a dozen pictures of Hera while Will and I were in the taxi back from the souk, but I know exactly what she’ll say. She’ll simply tell me to go for it with Will. Even though Lauren jokes around, at least she knows how I feel and understands my reservations about getting involved with Will. My mum, on the other hand, would simply tell me to go for it. She’ll tell me I was an idiot for pulling away, making an awkward excuse and scurrying off inside the hotel, leaving Will sitting by the pool, scratching his head.
I try Lauren again.
Me: Lauren! Will just made a move. Freaking out.
Still nothing. I sigh, contemplating going back out to the pool, where as far as I know, Will is still sunbathing and probably feeling completely put out. I’m about to get up from the table I’m sitting at, when the man I saw sitting by the pool on the first day of our holiday comes over, extending his hand. He looks as familiar now as he did then, although I still can’t place him.
‘Hi, sorry to interrupt, but I thought I’d say hello. I’m Lars,’ he says, smiling warmly.
He’s quite attractive up close. He’s tall and has dark hair streaked with grey, but it’s thick and slightly wavy, swept back from his face. His eyes are a deep brown shade, warm and intelligent-looking. His accent sounds like that of someone who’s lead an international life, it’s simultaneously American and European.
‘Hi, nice to meet you. I’m Natalie,’ I reply, shaking his hand.
‘Is everything okay? You looked like you were having trouble with your phone,’ he comments.
‘Oh.’ I shrug. ‘I was just trying to message a friend, but she must be busy.’
Lars nods. He’s standing by my table, a little awkwardly. Perhaps I should invite him to join me? It would beat hurrying back to Will right now, and it would be good to figure out where I know him from.
‘Ah, I see. Shall I leave you to it?’ he asks, a slightly vulnerable expression passing over his face.
‘No! It’s fine. Take a seat if you like,’ I suggest, feeling a little sorry for him. I may have my own problems to deal with, but what if the poor guy just wants a chat? He might be feeling lonely as well. I can always book my flight later. It’s not like I’m going to make it back home tonight anyway.
Lars’ face lights up. ‘Thank you,’ he says as he pulls the chair back.
I hope Will doesn’t come looking for me. While I think Lars could probably do with a chat, it might look a bit weird if Will sees me, five minutes after running away from him, sitting chatting to a stranger.
Lars has the same off-duty businessman look of the guys in the first-class carriage of the plane on the way here, with brown chinos teamed with a Ralph Lauren polo shirt. Smart casual and very preppy. I get a whiff of a musky richly scented aftershave as he sits down.
I place my phone face-down on the table.
‘Given up on contacting your friend?’ Lars asks.
‘Yeah, she must be working or something,’ I say, even though I know that when Lauren’s working, her phone is usually on the desk next to her. It’s more likely that she’s busy with her new man or having a nap or something.
A waiter comes over and I order a G&T. Screw non-alcoholic cocktails. I could do with a drink right now. Lars does the same.
‘So are you on your honeymoon? I saw the hotel had scattered confetti over the entrance when you and your partner arrived,’ Lars remarks.
‘Umm …’ I squirm, wondering whether to lie to his face. I really can’t face lying right now. My head is already swimming with thoughts and feelings about Will, the last thing I f
eel like doing is pretending Will’s my husband.
‘Erm …’ I utter.
Lars eyes me curiously, as though trying to figure me out.
‘Let’s start with you!’ I suggest instead. ‘What’s brought you here?’ I ask, keen to establish how close to Medhi and Amira Lars is before I admit the truth to him. I can barely admit that Will and I are just long-lost childhood friends if it turns out Lars is Medhi’s brother or something.
‘Okay!’ Lars laughs as the waiter places our G&Ts down on the table.
I thank him and pick up the cool, misted glass, taking a sip as Lars tells me he’s on a work trip, having flown in from Dubai where he lives. He explains that he works with a charity over here that helps women in rural communities in Morocco gain access to education. He tells me how he used to be an investment banker but retired at 40 and turned his attention to philanthropy instead and is now an investor. Suddenly, it hits me where I know him from.
‘Wait, did you donate to The Skin Project’ I ask, remembering a campaign I worked on years ago for a charity that provide cosmetic surgery to people who’d suffered traumatic injuries like disfiguring burns or lacerations. I got involved with the charity after taking an interest in what they do from the beauty industry angle, but I’ve followed their work ever since and continued to donate to their campaigns.
‘Yes!’ Lars’s face lights up. ‘How do you know that?’
I explain about the campaign. ‘I was convinced I knew your face from somewhere, and that’s where! I must have seen your picture on the charity’s website or something,’ I tell him.
Lars grins. ‘Yes, my picture was on there! I think it still is actually. The Skin Project are doing some amazing work.’
‘Totally!’
I take another sip of my G&T and chat away about The Skin Project with Lars. He’s a fascinating guy and it’s clear that supporting charities really means something to him. He’s incredibly animated when talking about the organisations he supports, from The Skin Project to the literacy charity he’s in Marrakech visiting.
‘The team are doing amazing work. They’re setting up schools in the most remote rural communities, making sure that all children have access to education, no matter what their background,’ Lars says, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.
‘That’s amazing!’ I comment, feeling humbled. Here I am, having been fretting over Will trying to hold my hand when there are kids in the Moroccan countryside who don’t even have access to running water.
‘Yes, they’re an impressive team,’ Lars says, taking a sip of his drink. ‘So, enough about me, tell me about your honeymoon. Where’s your other half?’
I squirm. ‘He’s by the pool, but he’s not quite my other half though,’ I admit, feeling confident now that I can trust Lars.
‘He’s not?’ Lars looks thoroughly confused.
‘It’s a long story,’ I warn him.
Lars shrugs. ‘I’m free all afternoon,’ he says, picking up his drink. ‘Go for it.’
‘Okay!’ I take a sip of my G&T, before explaining everything that’s brought me to Marrakech, from being a single mum in need of a holiday to winning Mick’s raffle. I describe the blunder that meant that Will and I ended up on holiday together, and how somewhere along the line, our holiday together was mistakenly upgraded to a honeymoon, and that we, sort of, never put anyone straight.
Lars snorts with laughter. ‘So, the hotel think you’re newlyweds?’
‘Yes. We even faked wedding pictures,’ I admit, feeling slightly ashamed.
‘You faked wedding pictures?!’
‘Yes,’ I admit shiftily, glancing over my shoulder to make sure Medhi or Amira haven’t suddenly appeared.
‘Oh my goodness!’ Lars chuckles. ‘That’s brilliant. How on earth did you manage that?’
I explain about the park, dressing up in my ‘boho’ wedding dress, telling the random couple we were Instagrammers and getting Lauren to photoshop the pictures. As I explain the whole thing, I realise how completely ridiculous it’s been.
Lars laughs. ‘That’s commitment to the cause.’
‘I guess I just really wanted the holiday and I was worried if the hotel found out Will and I weren’t really on our honeymoon, they might send us packing.’
He nods. ‘I see what you mean, but it sounds like you got away with it.’
‘Yeah! We did.’ I take another sip of my drink.
‘So why the long face then?’ Lars asks. ‘I saw you from across the restaurant and you seemed kind of upset.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ I grimace. ‘I think maybe we got away with it too much,’ I explain.
‘Huh?’ Lars looks understandably confused.
‘It’s just Will sort of made a move on me and I freaked out!’ I tell him. ‘Sorry if that’s too much information.’
‘Don’t be silly. So you don’t feel like a holiday romance then?’ Lars says.
‘I don’t know. Not really. Will and I have known each other a very long time. It wouldn’t be the kind of fling I could easily forget once we’re back on English soil,’ I explain.
It feels good to get my feelings off my chest, even if I am probably oversharing with someone who’s pretty much a stranger. Yet there’s something friendly, trustworthy and familiar about Lars that puts me at ease and makes me feel like it’s okay to talk – that, in fact, sharing with him is probably a good idea.
‘Well, maybe it could be more than just a holiday romance?’ Lars suggests hopefully.
‘Maybe …’ I gulp. ‘I suppose I’m just not sure I’m ready for that. I’m a single mum. I have a lot on my plate.’
‘So you like this guy a lot, but you don’t want any kind of relationship with him?’ Lars clarifies.
‘Yes, I guess …’ I murmur.
Lars’s face drops. ‘That’s a shame. If you like him, you should go for it.’
‘But what about my daughter?’
‘What about her? You’ll still love her even if you choose to be with this Will character. He sounds like a good person.’
‘Yes, but …’
‘What are you scared of?’ Lars asks suddenly.
‘Getting hurt,’ I admit quietly.
Lars shrugs. ‘Life hurts. But life can also be brilliant, thrilling, funny, surprising, and joyful. Sometimes you have to risk getting hurt to experience all the other good stuff,’ he says.
I glance down at his ring finger and realise he’s not wearing one.
Lars catches me looking. ‘I used to be married. I’m a widow now though,’ he explains, his eyes sombre. ‘My wife died from breast cancer five years ago. That’s when I left banking and decided to do something more meaningful with my life.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ I utter.
‘Thank you,’ Lars says, with a sad, yet brave smile. ‘But I’m speaking from experience. Even though my wife’s death hurt, unbearably, she also gave me the happiest memories I have. Life is too short to miss out on being with people you love.’
Love.
The word hangs between us. Lars is so sincere that I can’t bring myself to flippantly deny that I love Will. In a way, I do. He was my first love and on some level, that love has always been there. Maybe Lars is right. Perhaps it is worth taking a risk and giving Will a chance.
‘You should talk to him. You clearly care about him,’ Lars points out, eyeing me meaningfully.
‘You’re right. Thank you! And I hope you don’t mine my emotional outpouring.’
‘It’s fine, it’s been good to have a chat.’ Lars smiles.
He’s one of those people who sets you at ease. An older man whose life experience has made them wise and kind.
I gesture for the waiter to come over, and then I pay for our drinks, even though Lars tries to protest.
‘By the way, do you have a card?’ I ask, hesitating before I put my wallet back into my bag. ‘I’d love to make a donation to one of your charities.’
‘Sure,’ Lars replies. ‘That’s very kind of you
.’ He reaches into his trouser pocket, flips open his wallet and hands me a business card with the simple title ‘Lars Mansur, Investor,’ with a link to a personal website.
‘Thanks Lars.’ I slide the card into my wallet, making a mental note to take a look later. I definitely want to donate to the charity he works with in Morocco and maybe a few others, but as well as that, for some reason, I have a feeling that Lars is a good person to stay in touch with, as though our acquaintance isn’t going to end here. I get up and pull my bag strap over my shoulder.
‘No problem, thank you. And good luck with Will. Some of the best things in life are often the scariest,’ Lars says with an encouraging smile.
‘You’re probably right!’ I reply, before heading off to talk to him.
Chapter 16
I head back to the pool, my confidence somewhat restored by Lars’s encouraging words. I care about Will, to deny it would be to lie to myself, but I also don’t want to rush into anything. I need to let him know how I feel, especially since he’s probably feeling quite rejected right now.
It’s still sunny outside, although not quite as blazing as it was before. The pool is shimmering in the hazy light. Shielding my eyes from the sun as I walk towards mine and Will’s sun loungers, I spot that he’s no longer there. There’s just his book and his drink. Perhaps he’s gone to the loo. I’m about to sit down and wait for him to return when I hear some voices. I look in the direction they’re coming from and spot Will sitting playing cards with Mohammed. They’re immersed in a game and they’re happily laughing and joking away. I watch Will, taking in his sweet smile and effortless charisma, the natural and kind way he’s engaging with Mohammed and drawing him out of his shell. It really is just like looking at the old Will, the Will from school.
Will senses me looking and glances over. He waves a little awkwardly. I wave back and smile, opening my book so he doesn’t feel he needs to end his game and hurry back. I attempt to read while Will and Mohammed continue their game, but I can’t concentrate. My thoughts keep wandering to me and Will. I keep thinking about what Lars said about having to risk being hurt in order to experience all the wonderful sides of life.
