‘What time is it?’ I ask him.
‘Half past midnight.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Throbbert!’
‘What? And stop calling me that, Libby.’
‘Didn’t it occur to you that I might be asleep? And who the hell is Libby?’
He smiles, evidently pleased with himself. ‘It’s my nickname for you. Every time you call me Throbbert, I’m going to call you Libby.’
‘Why Libby?’
‘Short for Liberal Democrat, because you’re named after a political party. Clever, isn’t it.’
‘Genius. I’ll give MENSA a call in the morning to tell them all about you. In the meantime, can you please turn the bloody light off so I can go back to sleep?’
‘How am I supposed to see?’
‘Use the bedside light. You know, the one I deliberately left on for you for that very purpose.’
He stares at me blearily for a while, evidently trying to come up with some form of witty riposte, before marching back over to the door and turning off the main light.
‘Thank you,’ I say exasperatedly as I lie back down.
‘You’re welcome,’ he replies, letting out a loud belch as he heads for the bathroom.
‘What a pig,’ I mutter as I roll over and shut my eyes again. Unfortunately any possibility of me getting back to sleep is soon wiped out by the sound of him crashing around in there. There are more loud belches, followed by something that sounds not unlike a waterfall, but I imagine is him peeing. He’s incredible. He can’t even perform basic bodily functions without being annoying. By the time he’s brushed his teeth, I’ve endured a concert involving pretty much every bodily orifice he has, and I’m wide awake.
‘You might want to give it a few minutes,’ he says with a smirk as he re-enters the room, wearing nothing except a pair of boxer shorts. ‘Oh, and before you complain about my outfit, it’s perfectly decent.’
‘Don’t you have a T-shirt at least?’
‘Yeah, but I get hot in bed.’ He laughs. ‘I’m hot in bed, geddit? Anyway, I’m not showing you anything you wouldn’t see by the pool, so I suggest you get over yourself, honey.’
He stares defiantly at me, evidently spoiling for an argument. I’m just about to open my mouth and tell him what I think of himbefore I remember my earlier vow to try to be the bigger person here. With a sigh, I roll over so I’m facing away from him. After a moment, I hear him clambering into bed. I’m just starting to think I might actually be able to get back to sleep when he belches again, loudly.
‘Fuck me,’ he murmurs with a soft laugh. ‘I’m windier than a tornado. Gassy beer makes for gassy Robert.’
I’m itching to make a sarcastic remark about how I can’t imagine why Fliss split up with him, but catch myself just in time.
‘How was the Blue Dolphin?’ I ask instead. If I’m not to be allowed to sleep, I might as well find out if Gabriel’s assessment was accurate.
‘Fucking expensive,’ he replies grumpily. ‘First, they had the arse because we wanted to pay with Jamaican dollars rather than US. I mean, what kind of country is it when they don’t even want their own sodding currency? Then they told us we had to have at least one rum punch, because it’s their national drink or some such bullshit. I couldn’t taste any bloody rum in it, and they had the gall to charge two and a half thousand Jamaican dollars for it. That’s over a tenner for what was effectively a glass of fruit juice. So we switched to bottled beer, cos nobody can fuck that up, can they? Two thousand dollars a bottle! It was still better than sitting around here drinking vegetarian fucking fanny juice, or whatever the hell it is. Anyway, what do you care?’
‘I don’t, really,’ I tell him. ‘I was just making conversation.’ I know I’m trying to be the bigger person here but, after the way he’s just been, I can’t help thinking he doesn’t deserve to know about Raphael’s bar after all.
‘Probably best if you don’t,’ Robert observes. ‘Conversations with you never seem to end well. Anyway, I’m knackered.’ The room goes dark as he switches off the light. ‘Goodnight, Libby.’
‘Goodnight, Throbbert.’
I’m in a steam room with Amy and Lily, but I’m surprised to see that Priya and Rosie are also there. Even more surprising is the fact that they’re all wearing swimming costumes but I appear to be completely naked. ‘Why don’t I have a costume on?’ I ask them.
‘Because you’re a lying hypocrite and you don’t deserve one,’ Amy says angrily. ‘Did you think I wouldn’t find out what you did?’
Before I can reply, the scene changes to Raphael’s bar. The place is still really busy, but there isn’t the happy buzz of conversation that there was earlier. Instead, everyone is pointing and laughing cruelly at a woman sitting by herself at one of the tables. It takes me a moment to realise that she’s me.
I start awake, momentarily disorientated before I remember where I am. It takes me a moment to realise that it was just a dream, but I breathe a sigh of relief. As I lie in the darkness, trying to regain my equilibrium, I become aware of a strange sound coming from the bed next to me, and it takes me a while to work out what it is.
