Liberty and I take a moment to look bleakly at one another.
‘I think it’ll be easier to just round them all up and put them to bed,’ she says.
It’ll be like herding cats.
‘I agree. We have the WhatsApp group. I’ll drop this location in the chat,’ I say. ‘Everyone, meet back here when we’ve found Cherry and Tash. Okay?’
Big Sue snaps out of her trance. ‘Roger that, Big Guy.’
‘Affirmative,’ agrees Big Mand, dusting herself off.
‘Whatever… Big Guy,’ chortles Liberty.
We separate out across the casino. I head outside and up a travelator towards the canal shopping centre. I marvel at how ‘outside-like’ it is. I wander past the canals where gondoliers are singing Italian opera to customers in the gondolas. Their voices carry across the water to the crowds gathering to watch and listen from the bridge that goes over it, just like the ones in Venice. Whoever owns the hotel has really committed to the replica. It’s surreal. I watch a couple being serenaded as they float underneath the bridge. The singer is clearly opera trained. It instantly reminds me that Luke is here in this hotel. A sinking feeling floods my stomach. I really hope he gets the hint and backs off. Though I can’t see how he’d find me anyway; this place is so huge. The chances of bumping into him must be virtually zero. A searing pain spears my head. I’m so tired. I pinch the bridge of my nose. Something is niggling at my brain. Why does that not sound plausible?
The penny drops.
The huge, massive TV screens showing adverts. Luke would only have to walk around the hotel once to see huge images of me and exactly where I’m going to be tomorrow evening.
Shitting hell.
7
I shake the thought of Luke and what he’s planning to do from my head. I don’t have the bandwidth for it. Half my mind is on what Birdie is up to with Matteo. The other half is on how to round up the Dollz so we can get some sleep. Just enough shut-eye to tide us over this difficult spell. Then there’s Ged and Liam and cocktails tonight. Oh, God. Ged and Liam! I check my phone.
Where are you? We are waiting by the love sign as agreed!
Ged has added an angry-face emoji.
I speedily type.
Sorry. Thought you’d fallen asleep. Meet in casino at the pin drop.
I can see Ged typing.
No worries. Have spotted Harry Styles walking to Palazzo. Am trying to catch him up.
I type:
Abort, abort. Is not the real Harry Styles. Is lookalike. Barry Styles.
He replies with a crying emoji.
I run from shop to shop, peering in windows full of merchandise for the hotel: jewellery, gifts and the most incredible selection of donuts. Then it hits me. I cast my gaze around. Bingo.
A huge sign saying IT’SUGAR in bright lights towers over a sweet shop. I race towards it and peer in through the window. Cherry is very easy to spot because she is slumped face down over a bowl of what look like jellies. Her flaming-red ponytail is bobbing up and down.
‘Ma’am, you have to purchase those candies before you consume them,’ a stern-faced assistant is telling her as I approach. Cherry lifts her face from the bowl. She’s about to go nuclear. Her cheeks are full like a chipmunk’s. Eyes wide with outrage.
‘How much is it?’ I ask. The assistant squints while she tots it all up. ‘She’s had seventy-four dollars’ worth of Hershey’s, two bags of Tootsie Rolls, a Swedish Fish and, oh yeah, a whole jumbo bag of gummies. And she’s kinda ruined that bowl of candy for everyone. So…’ She sucks in a sharp breath. ‘Four hundred and twenty-five dollars should cover it, ma’am.’
‘Cherry,’ I say, shaking her out of the trance she appears to be in. ‘Where’s your money?’
‘What money?’
‘Your money to spend.’
Cherry suddenly starts sobbing loudly. Apparently, her thinning-haired husband doesn’t trust her with the credit card any more. Not since she left the house to go buy a much-needed second-hand car, and returned days later with a new pair of boobs. The assistant has no idea what to do with this information. She looks around as though hoping for a passing psychiatrist. Or at the very least some hotel security.
