‘Okay, then, feelings expert, what do I do about Freddie?’ I ask.
‘Talk to him,’ she tells me. ‘Tell him how you feel. I’ll bet you anything he feels the same way.’
‘Hmm,’ I say thoughtfully.
What have I got to lose by telling him? If I don’t say something, I’ll always wonder what might have happened if I were only brave enough.
I can’t do it right now because we’re off for the birthday brunch I had no idea about, and I don’t want to ruin our chances in the competition this afternoon… Maybe I’m stalling, but maybe I just need a little more time to prepare myself.
I’ll do it, tonight – hopefully after we’ve won Mr & Mrs Valentine Island. I will tell Freddie how I feel about him. If he feels the same, great. If not, well, it’s not as if I ever have to see him again, is it? Not unless I turn on the TV.
36
Before my failed wedding, I knew that I was going to be on my honeymoon for my birthday and I was so excited about it. I wondered what we would do to celebrate, whether we’d go to a restaurant or we’d shop for authentic Italian ingredients before making our own food together. Perhaps we’d go for a walk on the beach or cuddle up under the stars and fall asleep in each other’s arms. Whatever would happen, I was excited for my first birthday as a married lady. I don’t need to remind you how that played out.
I suppose, when I arrived here, never mind that it’s hard to keep track of the date when you’re on holiday, I just put all thoughts of celebrating out of my mind. Even when things turned around for me and I started enjoying myself, I suppose I just… forgot to let my birthday back in.
I was already blown away by the gesture, before I knew what it was. None of this would be happening without Ali, Marty and Freddie, and I can’t thank them enough for making an effort to make my birthday special. I’m sure that, in context, my first birthday with my new husband on my honeymoon would have been hard to top, but this… this is something else.
As soon as we were all dressed in our best (and I’d had my birthday FaceTime call with my family back home), carts arrived to drive us down to the dock, where we boarded a small private boat. I had no idea where we were going, which only added to the excitement. I asked if we were going back to the mainland or to visit Capri, but my friends just smiled at me, refusing to ruin the surprise in the last moments leading up to it.
You’d think I might be disappointed, when the boat didn’t actually take us away from the island at all. Instead it simply transported us to the other side, but it was nice to see it from a little distance, during the day. To admire the shifting scenery, from the beaches to the trees to the cliff faces.
After docking at a tiny jetty, that you would absolutely miss if you didn’t know it was there, we are walking up a narrow path, leading us gradually up the cliff face.
I do everything I can to try and pretend I’m not absolutely knackered from the walk. It’s not that it’s especially long or steep, I’m just incredibly unfit, it turns out. I am absolutely not getting back on my diet when I get home – my days of starving myself to squash into a dress for a man are a thing of the past – but I probably do need to start going to the gym more, so that I can walk up hills without dying and use my muscles without them aching for days afterwards.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ our boat driver/guide starts. ‘Welcome to Grotta Biancofiore.’
As we reach the top of the path and are ushered inside our destination, I feel my chin hit the hard floor. We’re inside the restaurant Freddie told me about, the one built inside a cave in the side of a cliff.
Inside it is nice and cool and kind of dark but, looking outside the cave, it’s like peering into another dimension, a portal to a hot and sunny place with an ocean, crashing against the rocky shore far below us.
There is just one table set up in the vaulted limestone cave, which somehow just looks exactly as you would imagine a cave to look, but also manages pulling off looking like an absolutely stunning restaurant too.
There is no music playing, no noisy air con, just the sound of the waves and the gentle breeze to keep us cool. Our table is right by the edge of the cave, looking out to sea. Only a small fence stands between us and a sheer drop.
‘This place is incredible,’ I say as I sit down. ‘Are we the only ones here?’
‘We hired it out for your birthday brunch,’ Marty tells me. ‘The place looks even better at night, with all the lights everywhere, but it was fully booked tonight and we were working at short notice so, I guess, you give people enough money, they’ll open a restaurant whenever you want.’
‘Not that the money matters,’ Freddie quickly adds.
‘I just… I can’t believe it… Is this real life?’ I ask as I look around. ‘Seriously, I think I might be in heaven.’
As waiters cover our table with a variety of sweet and savoury dishes – more food than I can imagine the four of us being able to eat – I realise that I must be right.
‘Yep, I’m dead.’
‘I’m okay with it,’ Ali says. ‘If this is the afterlife, I’m happy to live here for eternity. I always thought I’d go, y’know, downstairs.’
‘We all did,’ I tease with a laugh.
To drink there is a variety of fruit juices – the peach one is my absolute favourite – and the waiter takes our coffee orders. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever have another birthday as incredible as this for as long as I live.
‘Guys, I honestly can’t believe you’ve brought me here,’ I say after swallowing a mouthful of sfogliatella, a flaky lobster-tail pastry absolutely bursting with Nutella. ‘This is just… this is perfect.’
‘You are the love of my life,’ Ali tells me, leaning over to squeeze my shoulder. ‘You deserve the world.’
‘I am so lucky to have you,’ I tell her, before turning to the men. ‘Freddie, you’ve not even known me a month and, Marty, we met yesterday, and you organised my birthday party!’
‘Ah, forget about it,’ Marty said through a mouthful of frittata. ‘Any friend of Freddie’s is a friend of mine.’
I raise my eyebrows for a split second.
‘Yeah, okay, I know yesterday wasn’t a good start, and I knew you weren’t a hooker, I was just being cute, trying to scare you off so this one would come home and get back to work.’
‘Apology accepted?’ I reply. It sounds more like a question than a statement, but I’m not actually sure whether or not he’s apologising.
‘Seriously,’ he says. ‘You seem like you’re having a great time together, and I got to meet Ali, so I’ll drink to all of that.’
Marty lifts his espresso cup.
‘To Lila,’ he says. ‘The birthday girl.’
Everyone joins Marty in toasting me with their drinks.
‘So, did he nearly scare you off?’ Freddie asks me.
‘Nah,’ I reply casually. ‘I was tempted to take his money though.’
‘Hilarious,’ Marty replies. ‘You know, I thought it might work, make you think that Freddie was a bit of a bad boy, but as clients go, man, he’s a bit of a nightmare.’
‘Gee, thanks.’ Freddie laughs sarcastically.
‘Nothing wrong with him, he’s a great guy, but… as far as a client goes…’
‘I’m boring,’ Freddie spits out. ‘That’s what he’s trying to say. I’m a boring guy. I have no crazy exes. I haven’t had any wild affairs with the actresses or models he tries to set me up with. I’m just a dull guy who likes to watch movies and play video games and occasionally star in the odd BDSM movie.’
‘I mean, that last part doesn’t sound boring at all,’ Ali chimes in. ‘But, if it helps, the fact that there’s a complete lack of information about you out there – no skeletons, or exes, or skeleton exes – it may well be because you’re just a dull, average, normal guy. But to people like me, you seem mysterious. It makes me wonder about you. Question what dirty secrets you must be hiding.’
‘Is that good for business?’ Freddie asks M
arty.
‘Erm, I guess, yeah,’ he replies. ‘I’d rather have people wondering whether or not you were into swinging than know you spent evenings on Red Dead Online.’
‘Then I’ll take it,’ Freddie says happily. ‘Another toast. To being boring.’
‘To being boring,’ I reply, clinking mugs with him. ‘It’s always served me well.’
‘Well, now we get to be boring together, don’t we?’ he says.
Gosh, I hope so.
37
‘You know, I think we might be lost,’ I tell Freddie as I look left, then right, holding my compass out in front of me, as though I even have a clue what I’m looking at.
The final round of Mr & Mrs Valentine Island is a treasure hunt, following clues around the island, picking up more clues, moving on to the next.
Each couple has a different set of clues so that we can’t simply follow each other around if we’re struggling. That means this round can only be won on hard work and teamwork alone, but the competition is much smaller now, we found out earlier. There is just us and two other couples left. For reasons undisclosed, Daniel and Eva have dropped out. And do you know what the best part of all is? I don’t care. I’m not bothered about beating them any more. All I care about is having fun with Freddie, and making the most of my last proper day on the island.
It’s proving to be a nice distraction for me, from ‘the talk’ – the one I’m going to have with Freddie later, where I tell him exactly how I feel about him and hope he doesn’t laugh in my face. Of course, he won’t laugh in my face though; he’s too amazing. That’s why I can’t imagine him being as into me as I am to him.
We are three clues deep, with just two more to go.
We’re in the woods. Not the ones near the villa, the much bigger ones where the bicycle and hiking trails are, much deeper into the heart of the island, away from the built-up area where all the shops and villas are.
I imagine we’ll all wind up out here at some point during the treasure hunt, but right now it’s just us.
‘So, we’re looking for a distinctive tree,’ Freddie says as he walks around, scanning the tree trunks for something unusual. ‘But they all look the same.’
‘And we’re lost,’ I remind him.
‘You’re lost,’ he corrects me. ‘I know where we are.’
‘You do?’
‘Yeah… we’re in the woods.’ He laughs. ‘Things happen when we’re in the woods.’
‘That’s right, they do,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’d completely forgotten about the last couple of times.’
Freddie stops in his tracks.
‘The last couple of times?’ he asks curiously.
‘Yeah, the other night and…’ Oh, God, I’ve just realised my mistake. ‘Sorry, yeah, just the one time.’
Why didn’t I just pretend I was referring to our lunch date?
‘Who was the other time with?’ he asks curiously. ‘It was a first for me.’
‘Unless your movie counts,’ I reply.
‘My movie doesn’t count. Don’t change the subject,’ he says with a laugh.
Freddie has stopped looking at the trees. He’s looking at me now. He might even be looking through me because he knows I’m hiding something.
‘It was a first time for me too,’ I insist. ‘Never done anything like that without a ceiling.’
I cringe.
‘Lila,’ Freddie says calmly as he approaches me. ‘Are you okay? You seem… skittish.’
‘Pff, I’m not skittish, I’m not I… I do sound skittish, don’t I?’
Freddie nods.
‘Okay, well, I’d like to start by saying that this is your fault.’
His eyes widen.
‘This ought to be good,’ he replies. ‘It doesn’t pre-date me if it’s my fault.’
‘I had a sex dream about you,’ I blurt. ‘I watched your stupid movie and that scene must’ve given me ideas because I guess I took them to bed with me. And then you took me for a picnic the next day, and I started getting flashbacks.’
‘Oh, wow, is that why you were so weird? I thought I’d come on too strong with the romantic lunch.’
‘No, no, no,’ I say quickly. ‘Lunch was amazing. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you pinning me up against a tree.’
Freddie looks around, only this time he’s not looking for clues, he’s looking for spectators. Satisfied we’re alone, he steps towards me.
‘Like this?’ he asks as he presses against me.
‘Exactly like that,’ I reply.
As Freddie kisses me passionately I decide that we can take a short break from the treasure hunt.
‘It’s not exactly like the dream, though, because in the dream my legs were wrapped around your waist,’ I say when he pauses for breath.
‘That is easily arranged,’ he replies.
As he grabs hold of my bum in his big, strong hands I glance over his shoulder and see Daniel standing behind him. His face is red and blotchy, his eyes dark. He looks as if he’s been crying. Seeing him standing there is like something fresh from a horror movie, both because of how he looks and because he has just turned my favourite dream into my worst nightmare.
‘Daniel,’ I shriek, as if I’ve just seen a ghost.
‘Okay, that’s awkward,’ Freddie says, putting me down. ‘You know I’m not Daniel, right?’
‘No, he’s behind you,’ I tell him.
‘What?’ Freddie turns around and sees Daniel standing behind him. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’
‘I just…’
‘Did you follow us?’ I ask him. There’s no way he could’ve just found us.
‘Yeah,’ he replies. ‘Lila, I need to talk to you.’
‘Now?’ I ask.
‘Yeah,’ he says again, his voice breaking a little. ‘It’s important.’
‘No,’ I reply firmly. ‘We’re in the middle of the competition.’
Daniel drops to his knees in front of us and bursts into tears. It is the scariest thing I have ever seen in my life because the most emotion you can expect from Daniel usually comes from his football team winning or losing. He doesn’t usually cry. I didn’t even think he was capable.
‘What do I do with him?’ I ask Freddie quietly.
‘Take him back,’ Freddie insists, before quickly backtracking. ‘I mean, take him back to his room. Maybe Eva can help him.’
‘I told Eva to get lost,’ Daniel sobs. ‘I should have never brought her here in the first place.’
It’s nice to see a little remorse – even if it doesn’t come with a sorry, and it’s not exactly his biggest crime he’s seen the error of his ways over, is it?
I don’t even know what to say to that. I look at Freddie.
‘Take him back anyway,’ he tells me. ‘We can’t just leave him crying in the woods.’
‘What about the competition?’ I say.
‘I’ll keep going,’ he tells me. ‘Just hurry back, okay? Call me when you’re done.’
I kiss him on the cheek.
‘You’re a good man,’ I tell him.
‘Hurry back,’ he says again with a smile.
I walk over to Daniel and, while the urge to help him is still there – I’m not a monster, after all – I’m so angry at him for turning up like this and ruining my day.
‘Come on, let’s go,’ I tell him. ‘I’m pretty sure if we just head back down the hill, we’ll come out near the villa.’
‘Okay,’ he says, hurrying to his feet. ‘Thank you.’
For the first ten minutes, we walk in silence. I don’t think either of us knows what to say but at least he’s stopped crying. I am all for men crying, showing their emotions and sharing their feelings, but this just isn’t how Daniel operates. He didn’t even cry when his granddad died – not that I saw, anyway.
‘Thank you, Lila,’ Daniel says before sniffing to try to clear his nose.
‘Don’t thank me,’ I tell him. ‘I’m doing this because I feel sorry
for you.’
‘You’re a good woman,’ he replies. ‘The best I know.’
‘What about Eva?’ I ask as we walk down the path towards the villa.
‘I told her to get lost,’ he says. ‘We had this huge row and she said she didn’t think I was over you, and I realised I wasn’t. She was upset, she was angry. She said she wasn’t willing to share me with anyone so I told her to go home.’
Daniel stops in his tracks so I stop too. It’s too hot to stand still right now and it makes me impatient.
‘Am I supposed to care that you sent her home?’ I ask. ‘Because, honestly, I don’t care any more. I hope the two of you are really happy together.’
Oh, my God, I really mean it. No brave face, no one-upping. I really don’t care.
‘When we were going behind your back, we’d spend a few hours together, here and there,’ he starts but I don’t let him finish.
‘Oi, I might not care, but you can spare me those details,’ I say.
‘No, listen,’ he insists, taking me by the hands. ‘It was fun and exciting and I thought she made me happy. But being with her on this holiday, with her around me day and night, oh, my God, she’s been driving me mad. She’s so vapid and stupid.’
I weirdly feel sorry for her but he’s not exactly wrong. What he’s saying, in a rather hurtful way (the way I was talking about her, when I was at my most upset) is that they’re not on the same wavelength. They don’t share interests. She won’t talk about politics with him or sit around doing nothing while football is on. I don’t suppose, while they were having their dirty little affair, she had to put up with him screaming at a football match whilst intermittently ranting about Brexit. Similarly, he won’t have had to put up with her talking about her beauty vlogging work – I doubt Daniel even knows what an S-curl is, but during one particularly boring conversation, I once listened to Eva talk about the ‘art form’ for twenty minutes.
Honeymoon For One Page 25
