When she finally managed to raise her head from the pillow, it all came back in one big rush. The endless rosé, the free liqueurs and the dancing. Even the thought of being twirled around now could bring on a migraine, she was sure of it.
The tiny gap in the curtains she’d haphazardly pulled together in the early hours of the morning solved the mystery of the light torture. It was the sun sneaking its way in. But she wasn’t in a John Donne poem where the sun stroked lovers in bed with its playful touch; she was in hangover hell.
Her head ached like she’d been kicked by a mule and her stomach churned ominously. Sofia reached for her phone. Eleven thirty already. They’d missed breakfast. Not that she was in a state to eat any, but still, it was included in the price, and she hated to miss out on the extras.
A message from Adonis made her smile.
I hope you had a good night with your friends. Talk soon.
It had been a bit too good.
In the shower, tiled in hundreds of tiny turquoise mosaics, she turned the dial to cold and the power on full blast, and let it run all over her, including her open mouth. She remembered a second too late they’d been told not to drink the water. A few mouthfuls wouldn’t hurt, surely.
Feeling slightly better, she took some painkillers with the cold bottled water from the fridge and picked out a turquoise bikini and a hot pink broderie anglaise mini dress, with matching fuchsia flip flops. Sunglasses firmly in place and her hair scraped back into a ponytail, she spared a thought for how the others were faring.
A gentle knock at the door told her at least one of them was up.
Maddie stood on the threshold in a dressing gown, dark rings under her eyes, her red hair in a wild halo around her head.
‘Morning. I feel like shit. Why did we drink so much?’
Sofia turned out her hands.
‘Pass. But it was fun, I do remember that.’
‘Suppose we’ve missed breakfast?’
‘Can you seriously think about food now?’
A grumble from Maddie’s stomach told Sofia in no uncertain terms that the answer was yes.
‘We can probably get something from the bar.’
Sofia nodded her head in the direction of Charlotte’s room.
‘Did you knock for her too?’
‘Yeah, nothing. She was definitely the worst of the three of us. She never normally drinks that much.’
Sofia shoved her phone into her silver cross-body bag along with the room key.
‘Well, we’d better go and check she’s OK. You know what a lightweight she is.’
Repeated knocking and gentle calling had no effect. Sofia put her hand on Maddie’s arm.
‘You stay here. I’d better go down to reception and see if they’ve got a master key. She could be choking on her own vomit or something.’
Maddie snorted.
‘That’s a bit OTT. She’s a middle-aged woman who’s had a few too many, not Jimi Hendrix.’
Sofia failed to hide a smile as she made the sign of the cross.
‘God rest his soul. This is serious.’
Maddie put her finger to her lips as very slowly the door opened in front of them. A figure in a white nightie, looking like an understudy for the part of Miss Haversham in a very out of town production ofGreat Expectations, appeared at the door.
Sofia put her hands together in prayer.
