‘I don’t know what he’s so arsey about,’ Amy declares. ‘I’m only telling it like it is, and we’d all rather have had Fliss here, out of the two of them. Muddling things up like this has really played havoc with the group dynamic. Thinking of which—’ she fixes her eyes on me ‘—I assume you won’t be joining Lily and me in the spa today again, Tori?’
‘I won’t,’ I agree. ‘Having failed dismally so far, I thought I’d have another go at getting mugged today. I’m planning to walk out of the resort and throw myself at the feet of the first suspicious-looking stranger I meet. That should do it, don’t you think?’
‘We can but hope,’ Stuart mutters, causing Amy to snort briefly with laughter before she catches herself and tries to style it out as a cough.
‘I’m sure you can take care of yourself,’ she says eventually. She’d make a brilliant actor, I decide, as she has an almost uncanny ability to completely change the meaning of a phrase simply through the tone of her voice.
‘What are you really planning to do, Tori?’ Lily asks, obviously keen to steer the conversation away from the brink of open warfare.
‘She’ll be mooning around over her pianist, no doubt,’ Amy tells her before I have a chance to answer. She sings the word ‘pianist’ in a really irritating primary school manner that makes my palms itch. The fact that she’s probably right just makes it all the more annoying. I can’t stop wondering what Gabriel meant when he said our meeting in the bar this evening was a date.
‘Actually,’ I say, hoping that my face doesn’t flush and betray me, ‘I was planning to lie around and read again for most of today.’
‘Bo-ring!’ Amy trills dismissively. ‘Lily and I are trying out the hot stone massage this morning, followed by a super-hydrating body mask this afternoon.’
‘Umm, Amy?’ Lily says softly. ‘Do you mind very much if we don’t have massages today?’
A look of annoyance flashes across Amy’s face, but she quickly covers it with a very false-looking smile.
‘Massages are good for people who are trying to get pregnant, Lily,’ she says in the kind of tone a parent would use when trying to convince their offspring to eat broccoli. ‘I’m only thinking of you.’
‘I know you are, and I’m really grateful,’ Lily persists. ‘But I’m sure one massage-free day won’t do any harm. We can do the hot stone thing tomorrow.’
‘I see. And what would you like to do instead?’
‘Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d like to spend some time with Tori.’ Lily turns to me. ‘I feel like I’ve hardly seen you on this holiday. Is that OK?’
‘Fine with me,’ I tell her, trying not to laugh as Amy shoots me a death stare.
‘I’ve just had a brilliant idea,’ Lily continues as Robert rejoins us. ‘Why don’t you take Stuart into the spa today and do the couples massage class?’
‘That is a good idea,’ I agree enthusiastically. The idea of a whole morning without seeing either of them is my idea of heaven right now.
‘Hm,’ Stuart says doubtfully. ‘I’m not sure massages are really my thing.’
‘Of course they are,’ I contradict him. I know exactly how to sell this to ensure he goes along with it. ‘Think about it. A coupleof hours in a room, rubbing scented oils into each other’s nearly naked bodies. I expect you’ll probably need a couples’ shower afterwards as well, to rinse the oils off.’
‘You have a very dirty mind,’ Amy tells me disapprovingly, before turning to Stuart. ‘Ignore all those things Tori said. Would you like me to book us in for a massage class though?’
Stuart is evidently not ignoring all the things I said, as I knew he wouldn’t. He looks like Christmas has just come again. ‘Yes, I think that would be good,’ he says, trying to sound sensible and grown up about it. ‘It might teach us techniques that we could, ah, use at home.’
‘Would sir like a happy ending?’ I whisper to Robert, who sniggers briefly, earning a sharp look from Amy.
‘That’s settled then,’ she declares, still looking at Robert and me suspiciously. ‘Don’t forget the disco tonight though.’
‘Sorry, what?’ Robert asks.
‘It was in the notes I sent out before we came. The hotel throws a disco twice a week in the main bar. I expect all of you to join Stewie and me on the dancefloor.’
Robert bursts out laughing again. ‘What is the matter with you?’ Amy asks him crossly.
‘It’s nothing,’ he gasps. ‘Stuart, are you comfortable with this?’
Stuart looks nonplussed. ‘Of course. Why?’
Robert is really struggling to control himself now. ‘I just heard that you sometimes, umm, had difficulty finding your way on the dancefloor.’
‘Are you saying my Stewie can’t dance?’ Amy asks, outraged.
