‘I’m preg… preg… preg… pregnant,’ she wails. ‘And it’s my husband’s. And he’s losing his hair!’ Cherry’s pre-partum sobs are so loud that surrounding passengers are leaning out of their seats to see what’s happening. ‘And we already have two kids that we can’t control.’ Cherry’s face is the colour of her hair, vibrant red. ‘One of them eats her own poo, for God’s sake!’ She gulps in air as she wipes her face with her sleeve, smearing black mascara and blue eyeliner across her cheek.
The horrified expressions on the faces of the cabin crew and the gasps from the passengers demand some swift decisive action. But Big Sue has abandoned us for first class. My head swivels around. Tash is my only hope. She has been friends with Cherry forever. She will be used to Cherry going nuclear. She will have answers, strategies, calming techniques up her sleeve because she works at a university and deals with difficult situations on a daily basis. I twist in my seat to make eye contact with Tash.
Oh no.
Tash has been frozen in time, an appalled expression stuck to her face. She is staring at Sister Kevin as though he has announced that he is single-handedly responsible for something catastrophic, like plastics in the ocean, the global warming crisis or the end of Bennifer’s very short five-minute marriage.
Tash is not moving. She has powered down like a robot, staring at him in an eerie fashion. He looks worried.
This is about the Prosecco.
Before I have time to react, the cabin crew usher Cherry out of her seat and coax her gently behind the curtain. We hear her sobs subside. I wait for her to come back through. I have no clue how to handle her. Liberty has deserted her post, and Big Sue and Big Mand have also jumped ship. Tash is the only Doll left to manage this crisis. I must snap her out of it.
I bend round to see if Tash has moved. She has not. She still looks vacant. The shock has been too great for her.
Sister Kevin turns to me in panic. ‘What do we do? What’s going on? What did I say?’
Poor, poor man.
‘How many mini bottles of Prosecco did you say you wanted?’ I coax Tash. ‘Was it three or four?’
There’s a slight stirring movement behind her eyes.
‘They might even put a straw in the bottle for you.’ I’m using my nursery-nurse voice. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A nice little straw?’
I am literally holding my breath.
Tash blinks slowly. She is coming around. ‘Excuse me,’ she says, snapping out of the trance. She rises out of her seat and thumps down the aisle towards the curtain. When she reaches it, she yells at Sister Kevin, ‘And you can forget about joining the mile-high club! Not on this trip, anyway.’
Literally all the passengers twist in their seats to see who she is talking to. Sister Kevin, because of his great, unnecessary height, six foot five or something, has singled himself out as the only candidate by helpfully going the colour of a blood orange. Tash disappears behind the curtain.
‘I can’t believe this,’ gasps Liam. ‘It’s outrageous! It’s completely bang out of order! It’sourpre-moon, and yet they’re all living it up in first class.’ He and Ged throw me a resentful stare.
My heart sinks. I can almost hear my credit card screaming at me to leave it alone. ‘Do you want me to see if I can pay for an upgrade?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Ged moans. ‘We’ll just sleep the disappointment off. Hopefully, Big Mand and Big Sue will be in a more forgiving mood when we land.’
* * *
Eventually, the pilot announces that we are making our descent into Las Vegas, the party capital of the world. He tells us the desert is hot, hot, hot. I experience a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as the cabin crew busy themselves for landing. There has been no sign of the Dollz since they disappeared into first class. Sister Kevin has been sitting alone behind us watching film after film about prehistoric sharks, occasionally peering through the seat with a sheepish smile whenever we turn to check on him. He still has no idea why Tash is upset with him.
‘Ask him,’ whispers Ged. ‘Ask him how old he is.’ In light of everything that has just happened, he and Liam have chosen to fixate on how old Sister Kevin might be and if the BIG birthday celebration really is BIG enough to warrant Tash’s invite to join their pre-moon. And what happens to him if Tash chooses not to forgive him?
I shake my head. There is no way I am opening that can of worms. ‘You ask him.’
Ged draws his lips into a tight line and glares at me. ‘But you’re best woman. It’s your job.’
‘It’s my job? To ascertain the ages of everyone in the group?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, I’m a little too busy right now. I have enough on, trying to sort out Cherry and her worries over possibly being pregnant with her own husband’s child. I’m also trying to figure out how to heal the rift between yourselves and Big Mand and Big Sue, don’t forget. Oh, and I also need to figure out what the heck I’m going to say to Matteo, in approximately thirty minutes, when I show up with Luke in tow.’
Ged huffs but I can see he takes my point. ‘Okay. We’ll bench that for now. But for the record, we feel a little abandoned. I just want this to be the best pre-moon ever. For Liam.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ I say quietly. ‘But I’m trying my best.’ I lean over to check on Liam, who is fast asleep. ‘I’ll think of something, I promise.’
Ged squeezes my hand. ‘Thank you.’
