Honeymoon For One

by Portia MacIntosh

  ‘Every year, when we do Mr & Mrs Valentine Island, we do our own version after everyone has gone,’ Max explains.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Freddie asks him.

  ‘What he means is that when your lame version is over, Max throws his own after-hours version,’ Ali explains, a glimmer of something in her eyes.

  ‘He throws his own version of Mr & Mrs Valentine Island?’ I ask, laughing as I try to make sense of why.

  ‘Yeah, like a fun, spicy version… for the older boys and girls,’ she explains. ‘You two fancy it?’

  I look at Freddie. I’m not exactly sure what we’re being invited to but I’m a little bit worried it’s going to involve putting our keys in a bowl on the table.

  ‘I’m up for it if you are,’ he says.

  ‘Erm… Okay, sure,’ I reply.

  How bad can it be?

  ‘Fantastico,’ Max says. ‘Gunnar, the island photographer, is going to play. I tell him to bring a woman.’

  ‘Oh, I cannot wait,’ Ali squeaks. ‘Max says it’s what Mr & Mrs Valentine Island should really be like, but most couples are not brave enough.’

  ‘Can we play?’ Eva asks.

  ‘What?’ I hear Daniel say behind me. ‘No.’

  ‘I’m not sure it’s your thing,’ Ali tells her tactfully. ‘Max says it’s only for adventurous couples.’

  ‘It’s a sexy game,’ Max says. God knows what that means.

  ‘We’re adventurous and sexy,’ Eva insists.

  ‘No, we’re not,’ Daniel replies under his breath.

  ‘Yes, we are,’ she says through gritted teeth.

  ‘It’s okay with me,’ Max says.

  ‘Yeah,’ Ali adds. ‘The more the merrier.’

  I’m not sure she means that.

  ‘Ali, let’s get some drinks in, before the bar closes,’ I say, gesturing for her to follow me.

  ‘Okay, sure.’

  As we walk towards the bar I hook my arm through hers.

  ‘Do we really have to let them play?’ I ask. ‘I can’t seem to get a break from them.’

  ‘Is it making it hard for you to crack on with Freddie?’

  ‘What? No! I mean, that’s not why. I’m just sick of the sight of them. I dislike them both intensely.’

  ‘Okay, calm down.’ Ali chuckles. ‘No need to get defensive.’

  ‘I’m not being defensive,’ I say, probably defensively.

  I love Ali’s optimism and I admire her confidence, but I’m not her. Men instantly fall at her feet, and if they don’t she lays out something for them to fall over, making sure they do. But I’m not Ali, I’m not charming or confident, I’m awkward and I disguise my shyness with rubbish jokes. Plus, even without the big boobs and the lip fillers and the Botox, Ali is an absolute babe. I’m a little squashy, with these chubby little cherub cheeks when I smile, and I imagine the way I carry myself reflects my insecurities. Ali could pull a movie star, but I can’t.

  ‘Anyway, don’t worry,’ she says as we carry our drinks back over. ‘Max has told me all about these adult Mr & Mrs Valentine Island. I’m going to help him host. It’s pretty raunchy, Eva is going to lose her shit.’

  ‘How raunchy?’ I ask from a place of self-preservation.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she insists. ‘But me, Max, you, Freddie and this photographer guy… we’re all single. None of it will faze us. Daniel and Eva are a couple though, and a bloody dull one at that. They’re going to bow out and then we can all have fun without them.’

  ‘What if they don’t bow out?’ I ask, because they do seem hell-bent on proving a point at the moment.

  ‘Well, we’ll see how strong they really are, won’t we?’

  ‘What time do we start?’ I hear Eva asking Max as we arrive back.

  ‘We start here in thirty minutes,’ Max says. ‘Now the bar is emptying, I’ll set everything up.’

  ‘Okay,’ Eva says excitedly. ‘I’ll just pop back to the villa to get a cardigan. It’s chilly now.’

  ‘It is,’ Max replies. ‘They say there’s going to be a storm tonight.’

  Given everything I’ve learned about these after-hour Mr & Mrs Valentine Island games, and who is going to be competing, I don’t doubt it.

  29

  There’s something in the air tonight. A thickness, making it hard to breathe.

  I keep hearing about this storm that is coming, but I don’t think it’s that. It’s the atmosphere here, at the after-hours Mr & Mrs Valentine Island that has been, so far, so X-rated.

  It’s a funny feeling, down to a combination of things. There’s a tension here, amongst us all. The regular Mr & Mrs Valentine Island is just competitive but what we’re doing now… it’s a combination of terrifying and exciting. I feel so nervous, in that awful, stomach-churning way when you know something bad could happen, as well as that buzzing, excited feeling when it feels as if something amazing is on the horizon.

  There are ten of us here, coupled up in the deserted beach bar in the small hours of the morning. Max and Ali are our gracious hosts, competing together where possible, and of course there are me and Freddie, and Daniel and Eva.

  Then we have the two couples I don’t know: Gunnar and Rosa and Phillip and Annie. Gunnar and Annie both work here. Gunnar is the island photographer, a tall, blond Icelandic chap, who circulates snapping pictures at island events as well as working in the photo studio where couples can go to have corny portraits taken. Rosa is one of the new girls in the hotel. Her English is so good you could be forgiven for thinking she’d spoken it all her life. It seems as though, as some kind of grim welcoming tradition, Gunnar is trying to sleep with her.

  And then we have Phillip and Annie, a very lovely couple in their late thirties who I am absolutely certain agreed to play these games with us by mistake, and now they’re just too polite to leave. They’re really nice, with clean Oxfordshire accents and sensible clothing. They definitely don’t belong here, playing with the likes of us.

  I first had my suspicions about Phillip and Annie when we were all given team names – a combination of our first names, to give us our couples’ names. Max and Ali became Mali, Freddie and I because Frila, Daniel and Eva became Deva, Rosa and Gunnar became Runnar, and Phillip and Annie… were named Phannie. And everyone found this absolutely hilarious apart from them. Sure, it’s juvenile, but it’s been the tip of the iceberg for far.

  The first round was a sort of sexy version of charades. It soon became apparent that it wasn’t your regular game of charades when we realised that all the titles involved had room for sexy interpretation, as far as physically describing them went. So we’d work in our teams, guessing movies, TV shows, songs and books with titles like Moby Dick, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Blow and Commando. Not only did we have Phillip and Annie cringing their way through some of the more sexual gestures, but Daniel had a proper go at Eva in front of everyone, because she kept guessing Free Willy when the answer was actually Moby Dick. I think the kicker for him was when, straight after, when Freddie and I were up, the card we chose had Free Willy written on it, so we managed to get it in record time.

  Round two, which we’re currently trying to finish, involves everyone having the name of a famous person stuck to their heads. We then have to ask questions with yes/no answers to try and work out who we are. Ali and Max dished out the names, ensuring that people would only have names on their heads of celebrities they have actually heard of, depending on where they are from. It didn’t take Freddie long to guess that he had Leonardo DiCaprio stuck on his head (it took Ali even less time to ask him if he has Leo’s number – he does, it turns out, but he’s reluctant to hand it out), and I wasn’t far behind him guessing that my forehead was graced with Beyoncé. Annie and Phillip had Britney Spears and Elton John, and Gunnar had George Clooney while Rosa had an Italian pop star I had never heard of. Everyone has guessed the names on their heads, apart from Daniel and Eva.

  I look over at Ali and smile. She’s been a little cheeky with her choices for th
ese two.

  ‘So I’m an American woman with brown hair,’ Eva reminds herself. ‘Not a singer or an actress. A real person… Am I an entertainer at all?’

  ‘No,’ Ali answers.

  ‘Hmm.’ She carries on thinking.

  We’re all sitting around the table, waiting for Daniel and Eva to guess so that we can get on with the next game. They’re undoubtedly in last place, but too stubborn to give up. I’d say it was getting boring, were I not excited for them finding out what names are on their heads.

  ‘I’m an American, male actor, in my thirties,’ Daniel says. ‘I’m not in action movies, I’m not in any TV shows. I’m single… am I a sex symbol?’

  ‘Gosh, yes,’ Eva says.

  ‘You are indeed,’ Ali confirms.

  ‘Am I in the news?’ Eva asks.

  ‘You have been,’ Ali replies. ‘You were caught up in a big scandal.’

  ‘Oh, no, is this a politics thing?’ she asks.

  ‘Yes,’ Ali replies.

  ‘Right, well, I’ll never get it, then,’ Eva says, taking the sticker from her head and examining it. ‘Monica Lewinsky? Never heard of her.’

  I laugh quietly to myself at the fact that Ali stuck the name of probably the world’s most famous side chick on Eva’s head. The reference isn’t lost on Freddie either, who gives me a covert nudge of acknowledgement.

  ‘You might be happy to give up, but I’m not,’ Daniel insists. He frantically itches away at his beard as he wracks his brain for answers. ‘American, thirties, actor, movies, sex symbol… Blond hair?’

  ‘No,’ Ali replies.

  ‘Brown hair?’ Daniel continues.

  ‘Yup,’ Freddie confirms.

  A slow wave of realisation washes over Daniel, cycling him through the emotions. Confusion, disbelief, shock and finally anger, as he comes to the obvious conclusion.

  ‘Am I him?’ he asks, nodding towards Freddie.

  ‘Yey, you got it, congratulations,’ Ali says, as if she’s talking to a three-year-old who just managed to eat beans without getting any in their hair. ‘Zero points, unfortunately.’

  It’s an informal competition with no prizes, but couples in first, second and third place receive thirty, twenty and ten points respectively. In this competition, no one cares about a prize, because there is no prize greater than wiping the smile off the faces of people you don’t like. I am determined to win this competition – and the real Mr & Mrs Valentine Island – and show Daniel once and for all that I don’t need him, that I’m a better version of myself without him (and if that could be true, that would be great).

  ‘Okay, next we have round three,’ Max announces. ‘In this game the men need to take off their shirts.’

  ‘What?’ Daniel says. ‘No way.’

  Freddie takes his off without thinking twice, which angers Daniel further.

  ‘We don’t all take our clothes off for a living,’ Daniel points out in a blatant swipe at Freddie.

  ‘He’s an actor, not a stripper,’ I remind him, amazed at how quickly I jump to Freddie’s defence without thinking.

  ‘So, the boys take off their tops and the women put on lipstick and they have to kiss the man all over the torso. To win, you need the most kisses when the time is up.’

  ‘It’s a shame Max and I can’t compete properly,’ Ali says. The pair of them have to sit out of any rounds that need a judge, a timer, a quiz master, etc. ‘I’ve been training my whole life for this.’

  Phillip approaches Ali and speaks under his breath.

  ‘Annie isn’t feeling very well,’ he says. ‘I’m going to take her home.’

  ‘No worries,’ Ali replies. ‘It was nice to meet you both.’

  From the look on Annie’s face, I don’t think she feels the same.

  ‘Okay, so, just the three couples competing in this one,’ Ali says, handing a lipstick to me, Eva and Rosa.

  ‘Black,’ Eva announces, by way of a complaint about the colour of lipstick she’s been given.

  ‘To match her heart,’ Ali tells me quietly, handing me a sexy shade of rouge.

  ‘This is debasing,’ Daniel says.

  ‘You don’t have to join in,’ Ali reminds him. ‘We did tell you, adventurous couples only.’

  ‘Fine,’ Daniel says, taking his shirt off. ‘But I’m not happy about it.’

  Daniel is a skinny, slightly toned kind of fit. He’s so white, apart from where he’s bright red with sunburn. Gunnar is your typical large, Viking-esque Icelandic build with the kind of tan you’d expect from someone who works here all year round. Freddie has a movie-star body, with sun-kissed skin and perfectly defined muscles – the kind you don’t actually think exists in real life. All three men have completely different bodies, and I wonder which one will be an advantage in this competition.

  Eva, Rosa and I load up on lipstick. I keep mine in my hand, so that I can top it up if this coat starts wearing off.

  ‘God, I am so jealous right now,’ Ali says. ‘Okay, on your marks… get set… kiss.’

  I can’t really think of a technique for this one, other than to go for it, kissing Freddie all over his abs, his pecs, his bulging biceps… Oh, wow, I can feel myself blushing. It’s okay though, I’ll just try and pass it off as red lipstick smeared all over my cheeks.

  I quickly glance at my competition. Eva is struggling to reach Daniel so he lies on the floor. A dumb idea, if you ask me, because it means she can only kiss his front. Rosa seems to be doing okay with Gunnar, but she appears to be holding back a little. I suppose they hardly know each other – not like me and Freddie, who have over a week under our belts now.

  I can win this, if I try. I just need to forget that it’s Freddie standing there, smiling back at me, smelling absolutely delicious, like cocoa butter and aftershave. If I just ignore that it’s him – and with his body being quite firm – it should be easy to plant kiss after kiss after kiss. I just need to focus.

  I’m so in the zone I can just about make out Ali counting us down from five.

  ‘Five… four… three…’

  I move to his neck, to plant a final couple of kisses where there’s plenty of space, just as the time is about to run out.

  ‘Two… one… Okay, stop.’

  As Ali announces that the time is up I don’t know what comes over me, but I plant a firm and final kiss on Freddie’s lips. It’s just a peck, but I can’t help myself. As soon as I realise what I’ve done, I panic inwardly. I look Freddie straight in the eye, my face blank of any emotion. He looks almost as shocked as I do.

  ‘I saw that,’ Ali whispers to me as she comes over to count our kiss prints.

  I try to laugh it off. God, what was I thinking? I can’t believe I did that; I don’t do stuff like that. I’ve never done anything like that. Not even with a regular man who was in my league, let alone a film star. Shit, why did I do that? What will I say to him, if he mentions it? I’ll tell him it was for Daniel’s benefit, to make him jealous. He’s bound to believe that, right?

  ‘Lila and Freddie are our winners,’ Ali announces.

  ‘Of course, they are,’ Daniel moans. ‘Aren’t they always?’

  ‘We won?’ I squeak.

  ‘There is one round left,’ Max says. ‘For this round, ladies, we need to blindfold you.’

  ‘Oh, my God, now I really am gutted I’m not taking part.’ Ali groans before biting her lip.

  ‘What’s going to happen?’ Rosa asks curiously. I feel as if we might have hit her limit.

  ‘It’s better as a surprise,’ he says.

  ‘I keep telling you all, only the bravest couples can take part,’ Ali says.

  I do think it’s funny that Daniel and Eva are the only real couple here. The stakes are so low for everyone else.

  ‘Okay, I think I am going to bed too,’ Rosa says.

  ‘Babe, stay,’ Gunnar pleads.

  ‘No, no, it’s my bedtime,’ she insists, laughing it off.

  ‘I’m going to walk her home,’ Gunnar sa
ys, looking just a little disappointed. ‘Goodnight, guys.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ we all call after him.

  And then there were six. Three couples. Only two left in the competition.

  ‘Lila, Eva, are you down for a blindfold?’ Ali asks.

  ‘Sure, why not?’ I reply with faux confidence.

  ‘Yeah, sure, why not?’ Eva chirps after me, sounding even less convincing.

  Ali stretches out the elastic on an eye mask, holds it over Eva’s head and carelessly lets go. She places mine on with a little more care.

  ‘You’re going to like this,’ she whispers into my ear.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she replies under her breath as she hugs me. ‘This is all for you.’

  With my eyes covered all my other senses become heightened. The air smells warm and salty, the breeze tickles my bare arms. As an unexpected rip of thunder tears through the air I jump out of my skin.

  ‘We’d better wrap this up,’ Ali says. ‘It must be that storm that’s coming.’

  ‘What are we doing?’ Eva asks.

  ‘Okay, so,’ I hear Ali start. I can’t see her, but I can imagine the hand gestures that are accompanying her words. If actions speak louder than words, the wild hand movements that always accompany Ali’s words are probably what give her so much volume. ‘Our ladies are blindfolded. Men, you have to kiss both ladies, and then the lady chooses the best one and if it’s your partner, you get fifty bonus points.’

  ‘We’re kissing?’ I say in disbelief. ‘All of us.’

  ‘You don’t have to kiss Eva,’ I hear Ali say. ‘I imagine she would though.’

  ‘Erm, I don’t kiss my friends,’ I hear Eva snap back.

  ‘Nope, just their fiancés,’ Ali replies. ‘So, men, don’t say a word. When I tap you, kiss one girl, then the other. If you think perhaps a girl might not want to kiss you, don’t.’

  I do wonder if this after-hours Mr & Mrs Valentine Island is something that happens every year, or if this is something Ali has orchestrated. It seems very her, and she appears to be running the show. This whole thing feels like Ali’s unnecessarily convoluted way to get me and Freddie to kiss. I appreciate what she’s trying to do, but she’s barking up the wrong tree. This is a sham relationship to win money. I keep telling her and telling her, but she just won’t listen.