The door of my room opens out onto a long corridor which stretches the length of the building, and is open on one side, with a view out over the distant mountains. They stand out so vividly against the blue sky that they look almost like someone’s painted them onto it, and I can’t resist stopping to snap another quick photo, which I upload to Instagram.
‘First day of the rest of my life,’ I type into the caption box.
No, too cringe.
I hit backspace a few times, then try again.
‘New beginnings, endless possibilities’?
Waytoo cringe.
‘Good day for a fresh start’?
Cringe-tastic.
“How about ‘first day vibes’?” says a voice from over my shoulder. “Me granddaughter, Hailey, she’s always bangin’ on about ‘vibes’. It’s what the young folks say these days.”
Please God, no.
I whirl around to find Gerald standing next to me wearing a brightly colored Hawaiian shirt and a lot of gold jewelry
“Oh, it’s you, Summer,” he says, pleased. “Are you stayin’ here as well, then?”
I nod, then there’s a swish of tires on the polished tile floor and I look around to see none other than Julian and Alice making their way along the corridor towards me, Julian carrying a large inflatable unicorn and looking dapper in his neatly ironed shirt-and-shorts combo, and Alice balancing a pile of towels on her knee as she wheels herself along.
Seriously?
Them too?
Dideveryonefrom my flight end up at this hotel, then?“Ooh, there you are, Summer!” says Alice delightedly. “We were wondering where you got to last night, weren’t we, Julian? We didn’t see you on the airport bus.”
“That’s right,” agrees Julian, his face almost hidden by the unicorn. “We were worried we might not get to find out what happened with you and that Jamie chap. But here you are! Young Alexwillbe pleased!”
“Speak o’ the devil,” says Gerald, “Isn’t that him?”
My heart thuds frantically as I quickly scan the corridor, expecting to see Alex coming striding wetly along it in his swimming trunks. Then I realize Gerald’s pointing at my phone, which is open to the camera roll, with the shot of Alex getting out of the pool front and center.
“Er, no, that’s not Alex,” I say, closing the screen and shoving the phone into my bag. “That’s a completely different, er, really good-looking guy.”
“Jamie Reynolds?” says Alice, beaming.
“Tim McGraw?” asks Gerald.
“Summer?” says someone else, joining us. “Oh, itisyou! I thought it was! Well, isn’t this lovely? All the gang together again! Game of Crones!”
It’s Rita.
Ofcourseit’s Rita.
Well, everyone else from my flight seems to have ended up here, so why the hell not?
I look furtively up and down the corridor again, half-expecting to see April from check-in, or bride-to-be Libby approaching for a quick catch-up. The corridor, however, remains mercifully empty, sunlight filtering through the concrete archways that make up one side of it,and reminding me that there’s a whole island out there to explore; if only I can figure out how to extricate myself from the small group of pensioners who seem to have attached themselves to me.
“Right, shall we go down to breakfast?” says Gerald, producing a pair of mirrored sunglasses and putting them on. “Table for five, is it?”
“Why don’t you guys go on ahead?” I say quickly. “I’m not all that hungry.”
Right on cue, my traitorous stomach rumbles loudly, making four sets of eyebrows rise in unison.
