by Mandy Baggot
‘Did you get some good photos?’ Emma asked when her friend sat back down.
‘Not bad. I just wish I had my other cameras with me,’ Freya admitted.
‘Emma tells us you’re a photographer,’ Martha said as she took a sip from her wine glass.
‘That’s right,’ Freya responded.
‘Do you have your own studio?’ she continued.
‘Yes I do,’ Freya answered.
‘And yet you come away on holiday with nothing but a digital the size of a credit card - amazing,’ Martha spoke.
‘I left in a bit of a hurry. Anyway, sometimes it’s good to use something inappropriate. It makes you appreciate quality all the more,’ Freya responded. She narrowed her eyes and looked over her glasses at the woman.
‘I’ll drink to that,’ Gene said raising his glass into the middle of the table ‘to all things inappropriate.’
Nine
The meal hadn’t been as disastrous as it could have been. The food had been really good, the champagne had made Freya slightly light-headed and she hated to admit it but Nicholas had been reasonable company.
‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’ Emma stated excitedly when she and Freya went to the ladies toilets to freshen up.
‘Who?’ Freya enquired.
‘Nick of course and so nice. You were wrong about him you have to admit it,’ Emma said as she touched up her lipstick.
‘I’m not admitting anything. Anyway I’m surprised you could get a clear view of him with Bob Crosby virtually sat on your lap. I hope you told him he’s nearly old enough to be your father,’ Freya spoke.
‘Hardly! He’s forty six. Anyway, I told him I was practically married,’ Emma said as she washed her hands.
‘That wouldn’t deter him,’ Freya remarked.
‘It’s been OK though hasn’t it? The meal I mean, in the circumstances of having to share a table with all these famous people.’
‘It’s been OK. In fact I’d go as far as to say it’s been quite interesting. Martha made it completely plain that we weren’t welcome and she spent the whole night looking down at me. Hilary Polar’s as thick as you would expect a blonde haired anorexic actress to be and that was comforting to establish. As for Bob and Gene, they seemed to behave like hormonal teenagers for most of the meal - definitely midlife crisis material,’ Freya spoke.
‘I didn’t understand their fascination with the olive stones,’ Emma admitted.
‘Gene was trying to throw them down your top,’ Freya told her.
‘No!’ Emma exclaimed and looked down into her décolletage.
‘I don’t think his aim was very good. Right, shall we go to Yasmine’s for a bit of karaoke?’ Freya suggested.
‘Yes, it sounds like fun. I wonder what the film lot are up to,’ Emma said as they left the toilets.
‘Something that doesn’t involve us. They’ve done their duty and restored their popularity,’ Freya told her.
‘Oh I know, I was just wondering. At least I can now say I’ve had dinner with a Hollywood actor. My mum is not going to believe it,’ she said, still in awe of the scenario.
‘Something to tell the grandchildren,’ Freya commented.
‘Something like that,’ Emma replied.
‘Come on then, Yasmine's it is,’ Freya said turning towards the exit.
‘Hang on; I’ve left my jacket at the table. I won’t be a second, wait there for me,’ Emma spoke and she dashed off towards the table.
Freya waited by the bar area and caught sight of herself in the mirrored back plate. Her hair actually looked quite good now. It was still strange to see a blonde staring back but it was definitely better than the red.
Just as she was looking at herself and adjusting the halter neck of her top she heard voices. Gene and Bob’s American tones were instantly recognisable.
‘Nick’s always up for a challenge. Remember the last time, on location in Morocco? Wouldn’t fancy it myself - she’d probably crush me,’ Freya heard Gene speak.
‘Or eat you!’ Bob answered with a laugh.
‘So what shall we say? We foot the bill for a weekend at that boys only club in Miami if he actually survives a date with her. Your villa in the Caymans for a week including the masseuse if they make out - urgh God, are you picturing this? And if he beds her I think we should make it two weeks skiing in Aspen with all food and drink and a sleigh ride or two with some local beauties to get over the pain,’ Gene spoke.
‘But we would need photographic evidence,’ Bob replied.
‘God, I’m not sure that’s something I would want to see!’ Gene responded.
‘And if he doesn’t manage any of it?’ Bob enquired.
‘Come on, this is Nick we’re talking about, charm personified. And a prize pig who would probably be grateful to lay anything, let alone an acting icon,’ Gene spoke.
‘I think I want his Ferrari, for a month,’ Bob answered.
‘Fine, you have the Ferrari and I’ll settle for use of his membership to the golf club - in Hawaii,’ Gene said.
‘Nice,’ Bob responded.
‘So do you think you have a chance with Emma? Those two are a class apart aren’t they? Little and extra large,’ Gene spoke.
‘Pretty and pretty ugly,’ Bob replied as they appeared in the main room.
Freya hurriedly stepped behind the large plant by the bar, her eyes stinging with tears. Twenty four hours, new hair, nails and clothes hadn’t changed the way that people saw her. They had bet Nicholas to go out with her. She had only felt this humiliated twice in her life before and once was yesterday having overheard another conversation.
‘Hello Fatty! Didn’t think you’d see me again did you? Dyed your hair again? It still looks silly,’ a voice spoke.
Freya looked down to see the Devil child from the plane skipping about in front of her. This had to be an illusion. She had upset herself into hallucinating.
‘Have you always been fat?’ the girl asked, spinning round and round in circles.
‘Have you always been rude?’ Freya snapped back at her.
‘My mum says I came out with attitude,’ the girl responded proudly.
‘And I bet there isn’t a day goes by when she doesn’t wish she had said “no not tonight dear I have a headache”,’ Freya bit back.
‘You go red when you shout. Red face, stupid hair, red face, stupid hair,’ the girl chorused as she danced around.
Emma arrived back with her jacket.
‘Who’s that little girl?’ she questioned.
‘A pain in the arse. Can we go? I need a drink,’ Freya spoke with a sniff.
‘Are you OK? Have you been crying?’ Emma queried, trying to look into her friend’s eyes.
‘Yes, crying because I need more alcohol. Come on, let’s go before Devil child gets her mother on to me,’ Freya begged.
The two women headed for the door of the restaurant, but just as they were about to depart Nicholas appeared and called out to them.
‘You going already?’ he questioned.
‘Yes, we don’t want to outstay our welcome. You probably have lots to discuss about the film and stuff,’ Emma spoke.
‘But more important than that we don’t want to miss karaoke,’ Freya replied.
‘I can understand that. Emma, would you mind if I just had a quick word with Freya?’ Nicholas asked with a deep breath.
‘Oh, OK. I’ll just head off to Yasmine’s and I’ll meet you there. It was nice to meet you Nick,’ Emma told him sincerely.
‘You too,’ he agreed and he took hold of Emma’s hand, brought it to his lips, and gave it the faintest of touches.
‘Right, well, I’ll see you in a minute,’ Emma said, blushing as she turned to walk down the road towards the bar.
Freya braced herself for what she knew was coming next.
‘I was just wondering, if you would come out with me, maybe tomorrow night?’ Nicholas asked.
‘Like on a date?’ Freya enquired, pretending not to know what he w
as talking about.
‘Yes! Exactly like a date. We could have a few drinks, something to eat, anything you want to do,’ he spoke, relieved she had guessed his intention.
Freya could feel the fury rising in her as she looked at him. His dark hair, his perfect smile, acting like his life depended on it for the sake of a paid holiday and a few perks he could buy himself anyway.
‘Why would you want to date me? Particularly when you’ve so obviously been sleeping with Hilary Polar,’ Freya stated, giving him a stern look.
Nicholas laughed out loud and it took Freya by surprise.
‘She’d like to, I think. But she’s not for me. I want to date you because I thought it might be fun,’ he responded.
‘Yes us big girls are fun aren’t we? A whole big bundle of fun,’ Freya commented, finding it hard not to show her anger.
‘So what do you say? Do you want to come out with me? I have to tell you, as fun as it is sparring with you, I don’t usually have to work this hard to make a girl say yes,’ Nicholas told her.
‘No I’m sure you don’t, but then I’m not your usual kind of date am I?’ Freya replied.
‘I realised that when I nearly got the bread rolls in my meal. Fine, come out with me, don’t come out with me. It’s your decision. Contrary to popular opinion, not everyone has to do what I say,’ Nicholas stated.
Freya didn’t respond. He was sticking up for himself. Not many people were brave enough to fight their corner when she was on the attack.
‘But it would be nice if you could give me a chance to prove I’m not the total jackass you think I am. I do hate bad press,’ Nicholas informed and he flashed a Hollywood smile.
God he was good! This performance alone was worthy of Oscar number three.
‘OK then, yes,’ Freya found herself saying.
‘Sorry? Was that a yes?’ he asked her.
She had uttered the words so quietly anyone could have missed them.
‘Yes it was a yes. Meet me at eight tomorrow night at the Calypso Apartments. And I’m choosing what we do and where we eat,’ Freya told him.
‘Whatever you want. Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow night,’ Nicholas spoke.
He leant forward and kissed her cheek before she could back away.
‘Yeah, tomorrow,’ Freya answered and she turned her back on him and hurried down the road towards Yasmine's hoping her sequinned shoes would stay attached to her feet.
If there was one thing she had learnt from their encounter it was that he was a fine actor. If she had been watching the scene on screen she would have believed he was genuine. The hurt was passing now; it was time to think about pay back. Russell had to be paid back properly yet, but in the meantime it would be fun paying back Nicholas ‘Mr Hollywood’ Kaden for daring to make her a subject of a bet.
Yasmine's was packed with people when Freya arrived and she very nearly didn’t see Emma who was sat in the conservatory area next to a large Trifidesque plant; almost identical to the one Freya had hidden behind in the restaurant. Large plants had a lot to answer for. Emma waved and indicated that she had bought her a drink.
Freya joined her, sat down and immediately took a big swig out of the glass.
‘Well come on, don’t keep me in suspense. What did he say to you that I wasn’t allowed to hear?’ Emma questioned.
‘I don’t know what the secrecy was all about. He asked me out,’ Freya said simply.
Emma coughed and spat out her mouthful of drink onto the table.
‘Urgh, that’s gross! Here, have a napkin,’ Freya said, passing one to her friend from the holder on the table.
‘Are you being serious? Nicholas Kaden asked you out on a date?’ Emma repeated.
‘Yes. Just saying it sounds ridiculous doesn’t it? Look how surprised you are.’
‘Well it is a surprise. I mean, wow! Nicholas Kaden asking you out on a date,’ Emma said for the second time.
‘Christ Emma, get a grip. You’re making it sound like I’ve accepted an audience with the Pope,’ Freya spoke.
‘He’s more famous than that. He’s a devastatingly handsome Hollywood actor that the entire female population would bitch fight for a date with. A man, who owns at least half a dozen houses in enviable locations, has his face on every magazine cover in existence and someone who is probably on first name terms with Bruce Willis. He probably has his number in his mobile,’ Emma announced, practically hyperventilating.
‘But apart from having money and things and connections, he’s the sort of person who accepts the challenge of dating a fat woman for the grand prize of a weekend at a boys club. And if he gets his tongue down my throat he gets a week in the Caymans being massaged and, the pies de résistance, if he gets me into bed it’s a whole two weeks skiing and fondling buxom yodelling milkmaids while sleigh riding. That, quite honestly, sounds like an impossible combination,’ Freya explained.
‘You’ve lost me,’ Emma stated, the turn in conversation too quick for her.
‘Oh come on Em, catch up. You didn’t really think someone like him with all his cash and flash and probable Bruce Willis connections would want to actually date someone plain and ordinary like me! Like you said, he could have his pick of women. Gene and Bob, our amiable dining companions, bet him to date me, I overheard them. So when we left the restaurant I knew he was going to come looking for me to ask me out,’ Freya told Emma as she finished her drink.
‘Oh Freya no,’ Emma said, putting her hands to her mouth in shock.
‘Yes, so there you have it. I’m going on a date tomorrow night with someone that thinks so little of the feelings of another human being that he’s willing to kick them when they’re down already, for the sake of a cheap thrill and a few lousy treats, that of course to him are the equivalent cost of a Marks & Spencer sandwich. Remind you of anyone?’ Freya asked.
Emma took hold of both her friend’s hands and squeezed them tightly. And then she let go, slowly reacting to what Freya had actually said.
‘Sorry? Did I hear you wrong? Did you say you were going on a date with him?’ Emma asked, looking at Freya.
‘Oh yes, I accepted,’ Freya replied.
‘But why? Normally you would have called him something extremely rude and told him you would rather poke your own eyes out than date him.’
‘You are so in tune with my vocabulary, even after all our time apart. It’s impressive.’
‘Freya be serious. You’re not going to go are you?’ Emma asked.
‘Yes I am and I’ll tell you now, it’s going to be a date like he’s never had before. I’m going to show him that no one, no matter who they are, no matter how much cash they have in the bank, no one makes a fool out of me. I’ve done it before and I will do it again,’ Freya stated seriously.
She took a deep breath and held the thought.
‘Freya, don’t think back about things. It’s all behind you,’ Emma spoke, as if reading Freya’s thoughts.
‘I know, it’s just events keep stirring things up all the time. Just when I think it’s really all gone, something like this reminds me and I get angry like I was before,’ Freya answered her.
‘You’ve come so far. You were right, they are all arrogant, childish and pathetic and we shouldn’t have joined them for dinner,’ Emma stated.
‘Well, it’s done now. Why don’t you get us some more drinks and sign me up for the karaoke,’ Freya suggested with a smile.
‘Are you sure? We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, it’s your night,’ Emma reminded her.
‘Exactly. It’s my night and nothing is going to spoil it. I’ll do something by Cher,’ Freya told her.
‘OK,’ Emma agreed and she picked up their glasses and went towards the bar.
As soon as she had gone Freya’s smile dropped and she took off her glasses to rub her eyes. She felt drained and sad, but most of all disappointed. Disappointed with herself. Why did she let these people get to her? She had worked so hard to become the person she was today
yet not only could she not succeed in changing the one thing that seemed to matter to everyone, her appearance, her weight, she still let herself be bothered by it. She desperately wanted to be slim and have the confidence that being slim gave you, not just have the big girl bravado she had now. But it was hard.
The comfort eating had started when she was sixteen. It was an accessible vice and food had been one of her only friends during a traumatic period of her life. Food had always been there for her, never let her down, always left her feeling satisfied and never asked any questions.
She liked nice tastes, who didn’t? But Freya knew she liked a lot of nice tastes a lot of the time and she didn’t want to spend her life eating Ryvitas or eating ten trifles and chucking them back up again thirty minutes later. That was what her mother had done and probably still did. Freya had been a disappointment to her in so many ways.
She wiped her eyes and put her glasses back on her face. Nicholas Kaden and his fancy friends had chosen the wrong person to mess around with this time. He didn’t know what she was capable of.
Emma returned with the drinks and Freya hurriedly replaced her smile.
‘How many people before me on the karaoke?’ Freya asked her.
‘Two, including Samos from the kebab shop so you have real competition,’ Emma told her as she passed Freya her glass.
‘Let’s have a toast,’ Freya started, holding her glass aloft.
‘What to?’ Emma asked.
‘To Gene and Bob - may they both retire to daytime television and guest appearances on Sue Thomas F B Eye,’ Freya spoke.
‘I’ll drink to that,’ Emma agreed and knocked her glass against Freya’s.
‘And as for Mr Kaden - well he’s going to get what’s coming to him,’ Freya added and took a swig of her drink.
It was close to 1.00am when the two women arrived at Petroholis Restaurant. It was the establishment Yiannis and his parents jointly owned. It was an outside restaurant with a large canopy covering all of the thirty five tables. It was set a road width away from the edge of the harbour and was in the perfect position to entice in custom because of its good view of the sea.
