As her due date came and went long ago, we’ve finally abandoned the diplomatic approach and as we laze on our enormous personal hotel hot tub terrace with the sound of waves lapping up the beach a little way below, we’re back to talking about her baby progress. So far, the spa night party consists of me, Plum, Sophie, Milla – who blagged a late entry from Kit thanks to being so helpful in the ice-cream van – Clemmie, who’s here with Arnie for the alcohol-free fizz but not the tub, Nell, and Mum who arrived and then disappeared just as quickly.
Nell lets out a snort. ‘Three vindaloos and a rogan gosht last weekendand I’mstill here. Draw your own conclusions.’
High Tides have provided us all with fluffy white bath robes to go over our own swimsuits, as well as a stack of towels the height of the Empire State Building, and we’ve been away in twos for our complimentary massages and pedis. And now we’re resting our newly buffed toes on polished outdoor limestone tiles until we find enough energy to join Sophie and Milla in the barrel-sided tub.
Now we’re here, sipping our fizz, soaking up the luxurious surroundings and nibbling from dishes of deep-fried kale, it’s annoying that there’s very little to find fault with. Plum leans over from the next steamer chair and points at the green mass on the plate Nell’s holding. ‘So what’s that you’ve got there?’
Nell sighs. ‘Emergency room-service to keep my blood sugar up. Seaweed salad, with a balsamic dressing.’
Sophie frowns. ‘Was that the most appetising thing on the menu?’
‘By a million miles.’ Nell holds out her plate. ‘Anyone like to try some?’
Sophie pulls a face and waves away the offer.
Milla rolls her eyes. ‘Not being open to new things is why you’re getting so left behind, Mum.’
I give Milla a warning look. ‘You and your mum both promised – no arguing at the spa night!’
As Sophie flashes me a discreet thumbs-up, Plum joins in. ‘If you’re offering it around, I’ll give it a go.’ She helps herself to a sprig and lets out a shriek. ‘Jeez, Nell, that vinegar’s strong!’
Clemmie laughs. ‘Which reminds me, is Rye around tonight?’
We somehow assumed he would be, but so far it looks like the new bikini Plum’s hiding under her robe is going to go to waste.
Nell chews hard on another forkful then swallows. ‘So far, you’ve been very cagey about what went on with you and Rye the other night, Plum. You need to confirm for my records.’
Milla’s sniff is just like her mum’s as she turns to Plum. ‘Have you asked him what he does when he’s not at the fire station?’
Plum wrinkles her nose. ‘We didn’t talk about stuff like that.’
Nell punches the air. ‘Which answers my question about what happened on Sunday. If you weren’t discussing careers, did he do well enough in “other areas” to warrant arranging another date?’
Nell is very systems orientated and she awards her singles events a cupid if a couple has a subsequent date, which is why she’s pushing to get her facts straight.
Plum’s pretty skilled at dodging. ‘I was actually having a tour of the hotel grounds to assess the potential for outdoor sculpture commissions.’
Clemmie lets out a laugh. ‘I bet that went well in the dark.’
Plum ignores her. ‘So far there’s no date in the diary for further discussions,but while we’re waiting for that to happen, we need to talk about Floss’s new initiative.’ She turns to where I’m perched on the edge of Clemmie’s steamer chair footrest. ‘There must be masses of people we know who’d like to party at The Hideaway.’
I’d run this past Clemmie yesterday, before I met Kit, and by the time I got home our WhatsApp group was all over it.
Clemmie picks Plum up straightaway. ‘I’ll bring a group from Mums and Bumps along. With summer on the way, you could make that a regular slot.’ There’s a noise behind her and she turns to see Mum appearing from the room where we changed. ‘Suze, at last! Where have you been?’
Sophie doesn’t wait for a reply. ‘You know you’ve missed your pedi, Mum?’
Mum shakes off her robe, goes up the hot tub steps and slides down into the water. ‘Well, I’m here now.’ She puts on a towelling headband and tucks in her hair, but for someone in a spa she looks a lot more troubled than relaxed. ‘I was chatting to David Byron.’
Sophie’s eyebrows shoot upwards. ‘Foranhour and a half?’
I’m right about her unease then. ‘I didn’t realise youknewhim.’
My mum shuffles her position. ‘If you go to over-sixties events, you know everyone by sight.’
We all know she wouldn’t be seen dead there, but Mum brushes away our stares. ‘He offered to show me around and it seemed rude to refuse.’
This isn’t like Mum at all. She’s renowned for speaking her mind and pleasing herself. She’s also shut down most men in the southwest, so there’s definitely something odd going on. There’s a very long pause and when she continues her voice sounds almost hoarse. ‘He’s actually asked me to have dinner with him, next week.’
