Flavia demolishes the rest of it remarkably fast, while I perform the heroic feat of not pointing out how stunningly unhealthy her meal has been.
When everyone has finished, Maxim tells us that we’re immediately going to begin our ascent of Table Mountain.
‘Noooo,’ moans Flavia next to me. ‘I’m too full. I’m going to explode. That brownie was bigger than I expected.’
‘Should have had steak, salad and no dessert,’ I tell her, feeling no sympathy. ‘It’ll do you good to work it off.’
‘We’re onholiday.’ She’s back to glaring at me.
Weirdly –veryweirdly – glaring actually suits her. She basically looks gorgeous whatever facial expression she adopts.
She’s also, I remind myself, almost farcically different from me. And recently divorced. And there’s all the other stuff. I should really not be thinking about her gorgeousness.
5
FLAVIA
I’m aware that Dominic can be kind. He tried to calm Judith and me down on the plane, he helped with our luggage, he insisted on taking the sofa bed, and I’m pretty sure he purposely changed the subject from my time in Australia, having guessed that I don’t want to talk about Jed.
He is also, however, annoying me right now. Ididoverindulge a tiny bit on the pancakes and brownies, and now I’d really like to have a nice siesta rather than haul myself up an actual mountain, and he’s gone all holier-than-thou about salad eating. I’d rather be sitting next to a sympathetic person who would also like to get up the mountain by some mode of transport not involving their own legs.
‘Time for us to go,’ Maxim announces. ‘First, however, I need to explain that there is an element of choice at this point in your itinerary.’
Hopes raised, I glance at Judith and mouth, ‘Taxi,’ at her, and she sniggers.
Maxim frowns at us and says, ‘There are two possible routes. We have time for both, and – according to the forms you completed – all of you are fit enough to do either, and our guide is equally happy with either. One is easier; one is more challenging.’
Oh dear. I’m not sure Maxim’s the wisest tour guide. There is no possibility that everyone’s going to be happy with the outcome of this vote. As a teacher, I’ve led a lot of trips. It’s a bad, bad idea to give people a choice in a situation like this.
Maxim describes the routes in a bit more detail.
‘I’m also going to vote,’ he tells us, ‘so that we have an uneven number of people and a clear outcome.’ Even less wise.
Then, instead of just going for a show of hands, he gives us all a piece of paper to write our choices on, so that we won’t be influenced by anyone else. Andthen, we go round the group showing our choice one by one. Dominic is the penultimate person. He votes for the more challenging route.
At which point Maxim,clearlyhaving watched too manyTraitorsRound Tables, goes full Claudia and gives us a summary of the votes.
‘And so the casting vote is Flavia’s,’ he concludes. ‘If she chooses the easier route, that is the one we will take. And if she chooses the more challenging route,thatis the one we will take.’ He’sdefinitelychannelling Claudia.
Everyone looks at me, and I say, ‘With huge apologies to the six people who wanted to go for the more challenging route, I’m going to have to choose the easier one.’ I’m hard-pushed not to tell them all I’m a Faithful. ‘Maxim did say that it had amazing scenery,’ I add a little desperately when the challenging-route voters look at me with disappointment in their eyes. ‘I mean,allroutes up are fantastic.’
‘Of course they are.’ Dominic – somewhat to my surprise – has come to my rescue. ‘It’s Table Mountain. And the Platteklip Gorge is famously beautiful.’ He then supplies us all with a couple of facts about it, which we do all appreciate, before leaning into me and saying into my ear, ‘Apparently pre-reading a guidebook sometimes comes into its own.’
‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘Every single time your tour guide puts you in a Round Table situation and you have the casting vote. Which clearly happensallthe time.’
‘Exactly.’ Then he raises an eyebrow. ‘Round Table situation?’
‘Traitors?’
‘Traitors?’
I gasp. ‘Do you not watchThe Traitors? Or evenknow what it is? Like no-one you know talks about it?’
‘No?’
‘Whoa.’ I have no words.
While I’ve been discovering that Dominic lives under a reality-TV-free rock, Mike – who wanted to go the more challenging way – has continued to mutter in a disgruntled fashion.
