“About what, exactly?” says a female voice from behind me. “And who are you, anyway?”
I whirl around on the spot, somehow remaining upright against all the odds.
Alex is still standing, holding the door open, his eyes wide with horror. Sitting on the side of the bed, meanwhile — in the exact spot I climbed out of it just a few hours earlier — is a woman with dark, wavy hair and smooth, creamy skin, so flawless it looks as if it’s been carved out of porcelain.
Okay, so it turns out there’s more thanonething that could ruin this moment for me. Theotherthing that could ruin it is currently glaring at me suspiciously through narrowed eyes, which sweep me up and down, then flick over to Alex, the arched brows raised in a question.
“Who’s this, Alex?” she says. “And why’s she walking into our hotel room as if she owns it?”
Ourhotel room.
Nothishotel room, butours. Which means that this can only be…
“I’m Rebecca,” she says, when Alex doesn’t answer. “Alex’s fiancée. And you are—?”
Thirty
“And what did you say?”
Chloe is drinking a miniature bottle of Frexinet through a straw, but she’s so intent on listening to my story that she keeps missing her mouth and poking the straw up her nose.
“Yes, whatdidyou say, love? I hope you gave her what for, the cheeky mare. Imagine turning up like that!”
Rita and the rest of the Crone Crew are gathered around a table in the bar, waiting for the karaoke to start. I have no intention of taking part — especially not now — but going back to the room next door to Alex and Rebecca didn’t seem like a great option either, so I came running blindly back down here, the whole sorry story frothing out of me like the bubbles in Chloe’s Frexinet.
“No, of course I didn’t give her ‘what for’,” I reply, cringing as the scene starts to replay itself in my mind yet again. “She’s his fiancée, Rita. Or his ex-fiancée. I don’t know what she is. But I was the one who just barged in unannounced. I do know that.”
“No,” says Alice firmly, slamming her first down on the table, and obviously regretting it. “Well, I mean, yes, you did do that. But who can blame you?”
She looks around the table. Everyone stares at their hands. No one, it would appear, is willing to blame me.
“Iblame me,” I wail, putting my hands over my face. “I can’t believe I went swanning into his room like that, as if I had every right to be there.”
“Youdidhave every right to be there, though,” points out Chloe unexpectedly. “He told you the relationship was over, and he wanted nothing to do with her. So if that’s not true, and they’re back together, then he’s the one at fault here, not you.”
“That’s right,” agrees Julian. “It’s Alex who’s to blame for this. I feel very let down by him, let me tell you. He let us all think he was a thoroughly decent young man, when in fact he was some kind of international playboy all along.”
“The swine,” declares Rita, much too loudly. “Sorry,” she adds, seeing the look Alice gives her. “But he is. He’s a right swine for treating our Summer like that. You didn’t deserve that, love.”
“No, you didn’t,” says Alice, nodding. “And you’re absolutely right, Rita. He is a swine.”
“Oh, now, you can’t say that,” says Gerald. “That’s offensive to swine, that is.”
“He’s not a swine,” I interject feebly. “He’s just—”
They all wait for me to finish, but I realize I don’t know what I want to say. I don’t know why Alex kissed me last night, if he was still hoping to get back together with his ex. I don’t actually know Alex at all, really. And now it looks like I never will.
“If we could ask for quiet, please, folks,” booms a disembodied voice from the speaker above us. “The karaoke is about to start.”
“Okay, I’m going,” I say, standing up, and then sitting abruptly back down again when I realize I don’t have anywheretogo. My room, with its thin walls and its proximity to Alex, is out of the question, obviously, and I’m not really in the mood to head into town.
“Oh, come on, Summer,” says Chloe, taking another sip of her drink. “Don’t let Alex and his fish-faced fiancée put you off. What do you care about them? You’ve only known him for a week. It’s not like you’ve just lost the love of your life, is it?”
This is undeniably true. Alex and I had one kiss: that’s it. I don’t think that even qualifies as a holiday romance, let alone anything more than that. Getting upset over it would be silly, really. It would be the exact opposite of ‘cool’, which is what I’m allegedly trying to be; and the fact that Idofeel upset about it, and I’mnot‘cool’ — or even close to it — is neither here nor there.
“She’s not ‘fish-faced’, whatever that means,” I say sadly. “She was beautiful, actually. I can understand what he sees in her.”
“Oh, bollocks to that,” says Rita, fiercely. “You’re beautiful too, Summer. And you don’t have a clue what he thinks. None of us do. He’s played us all for fools, just like Julian says. So the best thing to do is to put him out of your mind, get up on that stage, and give us all a song.”
