6
‘I’d rather not talk about it,’ I tell Liam when Matteo, Big Mand and I arrive at the meeting point quite a few minutes late.
‘But you’re green. Why are you now green?’ he persists. It’s the pot calling the kettle black because he and Ged are still bright yellow.
By the time quick-thinking Matteo had swept me up into his arms (a fireman’s lift, of all things, while I was butt naked, screaming, ‘Nobody look at me!’ at the top of my lungs) to rescue me from the shower floor, which was covered in broken glass and slime, there was no hope of having an actual shower with water due to us not having anything to sweep up the shards of glass with. I’d had to wipe all that gel off while flicking bits of tap water at myself. While the gel smells terrific, the downside is that it stains when not rinsed off properly. I have ruined the hotel towels. All of them. Matteo didn’t escape untouched either and it was like history repeating itself when he put me down, and I saw that I’d left stains all over his lovely white (I’m pretty sure designer) top. At least we’ve established that me and his white tops don’t work well together.
Mortified, I’d hurriedly rummaged through my case, rammed my clothes and wig back on, and raced down to the meeting point. I couldn’t even bear to catch sight of my green face in the lift mirror on the way down. Big Mand was no help. I thought she was going to have a heart attack from the way she kept howling with laughter every time she looked at me. Then we had to schlep all the way from the guest suites through the busy shopping mall area, which is life-size – as in massive – past hordes of people all dressed up for a night out, even though it is still technically morning, and through to reception to report the mess I’d made.
‘Move over, Princess Fiona,’ Liberty squawks as I approach the group at the giant love sign as per the itinerary. She can barely breathe for laughing. She is wiping tears from her eyes.
‘What happened, Big Guy? Has the stag do theme changed to Shrek?’ Big Sue asks. She slaps her thigh and bends over double.
The Dollz are finding my state of disarray hilarious. They fall about laughing. I take a moment. If we only had ten minutes maximum in our rooms to prevent anyone trying to have a nap and we all looked terrible on entering the hotel, how the heck do they now all look stunningly gorgeous? They are standing in front of me red-carpet ready. How?How?
‘We’re only kidding, Big Guy. You look… You look… You…’ Liberty is honking hard. She looks amazing in her perfectly coiffed wig, her pristine make-up with heavy black flicky eyeliner and her outrageously short and sexy Barbie dress. She is attracting appreciative glances left, right and centre.
‘Big Guy?’ Cherry brays with laughter. ‘That will never grow old.’
‘Big Sue,’ I say, standing with my hands on my hips. ‘Please do something.’ Surely she can appreciate that there are enough Bigs in our group already?
‘Me?’ she says, barely able to keep a straight face.
‘You started this whole Big Guy thing.’
‘Did I?’
It’s no use. They are all delirious from lack of sleep. And now I’m seeing things too. An image of Birdie sauntering towards us like an angry poltergeist.
‘Are yousupposedto be green?’ she asks loudly as she reaches us, smirking.
‘Are yousupposedto be here?’ I snap.
When Birdie doesn’t answer, I give up and flick through today’s agenda on my phone. ‘If we’re all here, then the first pre-moon-slash-BIG-birthday activity to help keep us awake is to head to the hotel casino via the infamous streets of Venice, for approximately two and a half hours of gambling.’
The Dollz start whooping and swishing their arms in the air. ‘I love gambling so much!’ yells Cherry. ‘Not that I’ve ever done it. But how hard can it be?’
‘Steady on there, sugar tits,’ intervenes Big Sue. ‘Stick close to me, little lady. I’ll show you how it’s done.’ Big Sue links Cherry’s arm and heads off through the crowd.
‘I have something in my suitcase that might get the green off,’ offers Liam. I regard his yellow face and try not to look doubtful. ‘I’ll go and get it.’
‘I’ll come too,’ says Ged.
Liam huffs dramatically. ‘You don’t trust me with the naked butler, do you?’
‘Of course I trust you,’ he says quickly. ‘It’s him I don’t trust. Did you see the thighs on him? He could crack walnuts.’
‘Honestly, Connie, you should see his?—’
‘Meet back here in half an hour!’ I shriek. I don’t need to hear all the details. ‘I’ll come back for you.’
As the pair of them go off into a dreamlike state, Big Mand grabs my arm and we scuttle to catch everyone else up. I hear Birdie talking to Matteo behind me as we hurry along. I hope he mentions that nobody invited her to come gambling with us. I can hear the odd word over the noise of chatter around us. Words like ‘technical issues’ and ‘muddy frequency’ and ‘immediately’. I hear him tut impatiently, and a few seconds later, he touches my arm lightly.
I stop walking. Big Mand takes one look at Matteo’s serious face and rushes to catch up with Big Sue and the others. Birdie hovers around us at a short distance.
‘Hey, Connie. I, erm, I’m not sure how to put this but…’
Poor Matteo.Birdie is deliberately holding him to ransom over their work-in-progress with the top-secret celebrity.
