I dip a toe in to test the temperature of the water before placing my glass on the side, climbing in and lying back. The water is so deep, unlike in my bath at home. We recently got a new one – exactly the same size as our old one, because we only have so much space, but the new one doesn’t have the previous occupier’s neglect turning to mould around the edges. The problem is that, because it’s relatively small, you just can’t get a deep bath, and my boobs and my knees will always poke out of the water like desert islands. In this bath though… it’s so deep, I could submerge myself if I wanted to. I’ll settle for water up to my chin for now.
The previous titleholder of my entirely fictitious best bath awards was the one in our hotel room when we went to Thailand on holiday last year. Well, I say it was in our hotel room – it was actually on the balcony outside, which was just so surreal. It was as if you knew you were sitting in a bath, but you could feel the heat of the sun, and look out over the view, which boasted trees for days.
It was such a gorgeous holiday; I had such an amazing time. Until we got home, actually, now that I think about it.
We landed back in England late afternoon, which meant it was evening by the time we were home. We were so jet-lagged, I don’t think I’ve ever felt exhaustion like it. I just wanted to go home and go to bed, but Eva was having a birthday gathering at her flat, and Daniel said we had to go. I made a case for not going, said we weren’t that close, that she wouldn’t care if we weren’t there. Now all I can think about is whether they were carrying on back then, and if that’s why he insisted we go. I just can’t stop thinking about every single time I’ve seen them in a room together, trying to recall their body language or the conversations they would have. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them interact, not properly. I’ve seen them exchange polite hellos and goodbyes, but that’s it. And now I realise how weird that is.
The only thing worse than me trying to picture what they were like when we were all together, is when I start picturing them together when I wasn’t there. They must have been getting together so often when I wasn’t around. I’m not even sure when he could’ve been spending time with her – I honestly never felt as if he wasn’t there. He’d go to work, he’d play golf… I suppose Eva could’ve chipped into his golf time, which he deserves some credit for. The man who plays the world’s most boring sport managed to find something even more boring to do instead – Eva. Daniel thinks he’s so smart, and perhaps he is, to have found a way to do whatever he wanted while I blindly trusted him, but Eva is such a bimbo. What did they actually do, when they spent time together? What did they talk about? They probably just had sex, didn’t they? Which makes me feel sick to my stomach. It’s not as if he wasn’t having sex with me, so he must’ve been finding the time to have sex with both of us. Eva wasn’t just cutting into his golf time, she was cutting into his me time too. All those times he came home too tired to have sex, and I never suspected a damn thing. I feel like an idiot.
As my stress levels creep back up, I have another sip of champagne and squeeze even more of the yummy, fig-scented complimentary bubble bath into the water.
I just need to stop torturing myself with the specifics, because they’re not making me feel better, and they’re never going to.
After forty minutes in the bath, I decide it’s no use. If the world’s best bath isn’t making me feel better after this long, it isn’t going to help. Draining my glass hasn’t helped me all that much either but, after the other day, I don’t plan on getting drunk for a long time.
I wrap myself up in one of the big fluffy dressing gowns hanging in the bathroom, and head back upstairs.
I look through my suitcase, which I still haven’t unpacked. I probably won’t unpack it, because I’ll only be packing it again. And when I arrive back home again, I probably won’t unpack it for ages then either. Did you even go on holiday, if you don’t leave your suitcase on your bedroom floor, unpacked, for six months?
Something in my case catches my eye and I feel as if I’ve seen a ghost. It isn’t a ghost though, it’s the white lace lingerie I bought for my wedding night. A figure-hugging, semi-sheer white lace bodysuit. When I tried it on, before I bought it, I felt so good in it, so confident. I was almost as excited to wear it as I was my wedding dress, and now I feel like such an idiot.
Disappointed, having recently spent so much money on white shit that I won’t get to wear, I decide to put it on. Why can’t I just wear sexy underwear? Why do I have to have a man for that?
I shrug off my robe and step into my bodysuit, before looking myself up and down in the bedroom’s full-length mirror.
I look good, right? I mean, I’m nearly thirty-two, so I can’t do much about time. I can’t make my D cups be perkier (not without a bank loan and the help of Ali’s surgeon) and those little stretch marks on my hips are there now, they’re not going anywhere… but I still don’t look bad. I feel great for losing a bit of weight. I feel as if I’m in pretty good shape… so what was wrong with me? Why wasn’t I enough for him? I’m looking myself up and down and, while I can’t see what is so wrong with me, suddenly it’s hard to see what is right. I’m just a normal grown woman. I’m not a cute little thing like Eva. Is that what men really want, a cute little bimbo? Talk about unrealistic body standards for women – am I supposed to have my lower leg bones removed and beat a few of my brain cells out with them?
I plonk myself down on the bed, where my laptop waits expectantly. I still haven’t written a word.
If I can’t write something romantic, maybe I could write something sexy? Sex usually comes before romance anyway, and I do feel sexy in this. Perhaps if I could just get the ball rolling…
I do have sex scenes in my books, I just don’t usually get into them getting into it. I’ll have some descriptive kissing, maybe some clothes will start coming off, but as soon as stuff is about to happen – oh, sorry, dear reader, that’s the end of the chapter. I just can’t bring myself to write it.
I stare at my screen with my hands hovering over my keyboard. I’m trying to think sexy thoughts, but they’re not really happening. I swear, this doesn’t usually happen to me – yep, that old excuse.
I yawn, a combination of tired and bored of trying to write and getting nowhere.
I check my phone, to see if there is anything from Ali. We were texting earlier but she said she was getting an early night. Tomorrow she has a date with a man whose dad owns a department store (which she thinks is going to get her free shoes), who has been sexting her about his passion for practising tantra (which is why she’s getting an early night).
I have nothing to do and no one to talk to… I suppose there is Freddie, next door. Handsome, sexy Freddie, with his muscles and his messy hair and his cheeky charm.
I look down at my underwear angrily – you’re doing this to me, making me have impure thoughts.
I wiggle into a more comfortable position as the sleepy feeling starts to take over.
I suppose I should get my beauty sleep; after all, tomorrow I am sure I have a big day… of absolutely nothing.
13
Day 5
I jolt upright in my bed. What was that?
The sun shining in through the bedroom windows tells me that it’s morning. I wish I’d closed the blinds last night because it feels as if it is dissolving my eyes. As I wait for them to adjust, I hear the strange noise again. It’s more of a screeching noise now. It sounds like it’s coming from a woman – a woman in trouble.
I hurry on my dressing gown because, for some reason, I feel even more vulnerable, being so undressed.
As I creep down the stairs slowly, I hear it again. This time, I’d describe the noise as a squeal, sort of like a pig makes.
I notice, straight ahead of me, that the door is open, which makes me think someone has been in here while I was asleep. As I near the bottom of the stairs, I realise that someone is in here right now.
Savino, the porter who brought me here,
is standing in the kitchen.
‘Hello?’ I say to him. His face falls.
‘Lila?’
A voice from my not so distant past chills me to my core. It’s Daniel’s voice, there’s no mistaking that. It surprises me that I’m pleased to hear his voice, and I’m touched that he’s followed me to Italy. I think I’d been telling myself that, if he did turn up, I’d be throwing him into the pool, but now that he’s here, maybe to apologise…
As I turn to face him I notice Eva standing next to him. They both have their suitcases with them.
‘What… the hell… are you two doing here?’ I ask as I slowly approach them.
I hear Savino frantically mumble something to himself in Italian before he scarpers.
‘Lila,’ he says again.
‘You keep saying my name like you know me,’ I start, with one of those truly terrifying angry laughs, the kind when your eyes widen and your face muscles tighten. ‘Except you didn’t seem to know who I was on our wedding day. And, funnily enough, you don’t seem to recall who you’re supposed to be on holiday with, because you’re standing here with… her.’
I can’t even bring myself to say Eva’s name.
Eva remains silent. She’s wearing a white maxi dress with a bikini top underneath, and she has a pair of sunglasses on her head – if that isn’t the universal symbol of a woman on holiday, I don’t know what is.
‘I didn’t know you’d be here,’ Daniel says as his cheeks redden. ‘You just disappeared and, well, after a few days, you didn’t come back, and I knew this was booked… It seemed like a shame, to let the holiday go to waste.’
At first, I consider whether I’m just as bad as he is, because I had a similar thought, which is how I ended up here. But not only does Daniel not deserve to be here – because this mess is all his fault – but the fact that he’s brought his bit on the side with him, on our honeymoon, that I booked… Oh, no, no, no, no, no. I don’t think so.
‘Lila, you just vanished,’ he says.
‘With good reason,’ I reply.
I can feel the anger bubbling up inside me. I didn’t think I could get any more angry or upset than I did at the maze on my wedding day, but him turning up here with her… it’s like some sort of cruel joke.
“I realise we have our issues right now,’ he starts. I don’t let him finish.
‘Issues?’ I say. ‘Daniel, you’ve been cheating on me for… how long?’
‘That isn’t a conversation for right now,’ he says.
‘Our problems are filed under more than “issues”. I’ve never felt so humiliated.’
Daniel itches his beard anxiously. He is wearing the holiday clothes I bought for him, so I don’t suppose the bin men took his suitcase, which is a shame.
‘Well, you certainly levelled the playing field at the ceremony,’ he says, starting to sound defensive. Eva places a soothing hand on his forearm, which makes me want to rip hers off. ‘That was pretty humiliating.’
‘Well, I wasn’t going to marry you, was I?’
‘The way you called things off though…’
‘Daniel, I saw the two of you together, in the maze, talking, confessing your love for each other, kissing… Do we have to do this with her here?’
He ignores the last part.
‘I was stood there, waiting for you to walk down the aisle. The music played, the bridesmaids walked down the aisle, everyone took their places. “Here Comes the Bride” started playing, but no bride came.’
‘Ali said she’d told you,’ I reply.
‘She told me eventually. But first, she let me worry. She acted like she had no idea where you were, told me you were right behind her moments ago. She knew how worried I was and she just let me panic… until she announced, in front of everyone, that you weren’t coming. When I asked why she told everyone that I was having an affair with Eva – she named her! She pointed her out!’
Man, that sounds like Ali.
‘Oh, my God, Daniel, Eva, I’m so sorry, that must’ve been a pretty sucky day for you. If it’s any consolation…’ I raise my voice ‘… it was worse for me!’
‘Lila, she called me out in front of my family. My parents, my gran! She called poor Eva a slut in front of everyone – she burst into tears.’
I shrug. Probably don’t shag other people’s fiancés, if you’re such a delicate little flower you can’t handle the fallout. The same goes for Daniel. I imagine it was horrible, for his gran to hear what he did, and to find out like that, but if he hadn’t done it, it wouldn’t have happened. They were playing a dangerous game. They asked for this. Both of them.
Absolutely unbelievable that he has the balls on him to bring his bit on the side on our honeymoon, and then have a go at me because it was embarrassing when people found out.
‘I was still going to marry you,’ he says. Eva doesn’t even flinch at this remark; she just stands there, smug, like the cat that got the cream.
‘Why, though?’ I ask.
‘Gorgeous, you wanna go for a swim? The water is great,’ Freddie says to me as he walks in from the terrace, through the backdoor that Daniel and Eva must have opened.
What the hell?
Freddie appears to be wearing nothing but a towel. He’s all wet, as if maybe he just stepped out of the shower. He walks over to us and, when he reaches me, he kisses me on the cheek.
I just stare at him as he runs a hand through his wet, shaggy hair. I swear to God he flexes his biceps as he does so, and not in a natural way – he’s literally flexing on everyone in the room.
Daniel looks as taken aback by this as I feel. Eva looks positively dumbstruck.
‘Who are your friends, gorgeous?’ Freddie asks me.
I realise that he’s talking to me, but I have no idea what he’s talking about. Christ, he must be some sort of sociopath. He’s acting as if we’re a couple or something – and it seems as if he really believes it. I know I haven’t been a single girl in a long time, but I didn’t realise that giving a man a bag of crisps meant you were a thing. The rules have clearly changed a lot since the last time I played the dating game.
Freddie gives me another meaningful squeeze. As he releases me I notice both Daniel and Eva staring down at my body. I look down to see that my robe has opened, and my sexy white lingerie is on show. I quickly tighten my belt.
‘Who are you?’ Daniel asks him, unable to hide his jealousy.
‘Great to meet you, buddy, I’m Freddie,’ he says.
‘You’re Freddie Bianchi,’ Eva says, stunned.
How the bloody hell does Eva know his name? Has she tried to shag him too?
‘That’s me,’ he replies.
‘Who?’ Daniel asks, even angrier now that it appears Eva knows him.
Freddie Bianchi, I’m sure I know that name, he’s…
‘I’m such a big fan,’ Eva tells him. ‘Huge!’
‘Who the hell is he?’ Daniel asks her.
‘Freddie Bianchi,’ she says, as though the repetition of his name will trigger something in his head. ‘You know, from the Edge of Eden movie.’
Oh, my God. That’s who he is!
Edge of Eden was the first book in a series of erotic novels that absolutely exploded – so much so they made a movie of the first one. I haven’t read the books or seen the movie, but I vaguely recall seeing a movie poster of a small blonde woman and a towering, muscular hunk of a man standing over her. I seem to think he looked a bit different on the posters, as if his hair was darker, or slicked back, or both…
‘Yeah, that’s me,’ he says with an awkward laugh.
‘What are you doing here?’ Eva asks him.
‘Lila and I met on the plane,’ he tells them. ‘I don’t know what it was but we just fell for each other. Couldn’t keep our hands off each other, could we?’
Suddenly something dawns on me… Freddie is acting. I imagine my nosey neighbour was outside and overheard our conversation. I told him all about Daniel yesterday so, if he was listen
ing, he’d know how truly mortifying this moment was for me, before he stepped in. Is he really doing this just so I can save face?
‘We couldn’t,’ I reply.
‘We still can’t,’ Freddie says. He stands behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. As he buries his face in my neck, I can’t help but marvel at what a great actor he must be. Even I believe him, and I know it’s not true. ‘So, introduce me to your friends, beautiful.’
‘Well, this is my dear friend, Eva,’ I tell him. Suddenly, I’ve found my confidence. I’m not an emotional wreck, on the verge of tears. I’m cool, calm, and rubbing every last bit of it into their faces. ‘And this is Daniel.’
‘Her fiancé,’ Daniel says.
‘Ex-fiancé,’ I correct him. ‘We had some issues.’
‘Oh, this is your ex,’ Freddie says. ‘I’ve heard all about you, buddy.’
Daniel begins to pace. On his fourth length of the room, he notices the dildo on the table.
‘What the…?’
‘Babe, you need to see the movie,’ Eva tells him enthusiastically, by way of an explanation.
Damn. I think I need to see the movie, now I know that Freddie is the star. I don’t know much about Edge of Eden, only that it’s an erotic tale about an S&M-loving lawyer who has an affair with a woman he’s defending. I think she’s on a murder charge or something – it’s a tale as old as time.
I cannot believe I’ve been hanging out with a movie star all this time – I can’t believe he’s seen me naked! Oh, my God, I can’t believe I ordered a drink from him. He’s probably one of the most famous men on the planet right now, and I ordered a bloody drink from him. I mean, he did make me one, but even so…
‘Eva, Dan, are you stopping for lunch?’ Freddie asks them, dancing with me playfully. ‘We usually go back to bed right about now but…’
Honeymoon For One Page 8
