Ava looks like she’s just been givennul pointsin the Eurovision song contest, as Oliver winks at me, puts three pints of water down on the table and throws his head back giggling like a little girl.
It takes only a second for her to get over herself. ‘Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod!’ Ava shrieks waving her phone around. ‘He liked my post!’
‘Who liked your post?’ I’ve never seen her this excited before, not since...
‘Ryan!’
‘Which one this time?’ I steel myself ready for the answer.
‘Oh,’ she says, her face falling. ‘Gosling.’
I try hard to keep the relief from my face.
‘You two are a nightmare.’ Oliver butts in. ‘You’re as bad as each other.’
Ava and I stare at each other before we turn abruptly to Oliver to put him right on a thing or two.
But before we can get a word in, Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen says, ‘Yes Ryan, they are exactly the same. Yes. Two beans, no peas, two peas in a…’
We wait while she takes a slurp of her cocktail. I greatly admire her command of the language. Far, far better than anything I could do.
‘Where was I? Ah yes… you have lovely eyes Ryan, and huge arms.’ We watch as she squeezes Oliver’s bicep. ‘… and Ms Weston is very good life coach. Very good. The best.’
She strokes my face.
‘… and Abba ees very good friend for hair and clothes. We are BEE-EFF-EFFs.’
She flicks Ava’s hair extensions and makes a heart sign with her hands.
She has known her for less than a day.
I take a moment.
It’s her lack of judgement and any sense of loyalty that is the real worry.
Chapter 29
Icanbarelyopenmy eyes the next morning. It’s as though I’m coming round from a general anaesthetic where I’ve been given a last-minute epidural to prevent my limbs from moving while the surgeons take turns going at my head with an ice pick.
I lie back against the pillows, taking it all in. Last night. The pizza. The drinks. The all-night dancing. The braying toffs. And that wonderful kissing. Even through my banging head, I feel a wave of excitement. I wonder if Oliver will get in touch with me today. Last night was like a dream come true, the way he just showed up like that. All beefy and handsome and full of heroics.
I hope he isn’t disappointed when he finds out that, day to day, I’m exceptionally ordinary. I just went through a bit of a difficult patch, as we all do. That’s all. I mean surely everyone has had to deal with shock redundancy, family disloyalty (imagined), dysfunctional staff, cheating boyfriend, global economic and environmental meltdown brought on by very poor political decisions, and the overuse of plastics, at some point in their lives, haven’t they?
I think back to how Oliver and I parted ways.
Now, did he say he would text me, or did I say I’d text him?I can’t remember which one of us said what.
After the introductions, my sister decided we must all do shots to mark the occasion. After the third one, I remember desperately trying to stand up straight and Oliver helping me because he’s extremely attentive like that. He then left me briefly, after propping me up on a stool against the DJ booth, to look after my sister who had thrown up all over the table we had been sitting at.
Yes, that’s right, that’s why Oliver moved me to the stool, so that I wouldn’t get any more vomit on me. He is such a gentleman. So, while he escorted my sister to the toilet, I vaguely recall that he then had to go back to get Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen.
Ah, now. It’s all coming back to me. Oliver had to put his huge beefy arms to good use and give her a fireman’s lift out of the club and over to his car, because she had passed out and was also covered in my sister’s sick. That’s right. Then he came back in for me, and returned with my sister, who apparently had also passed out mid-wee, in the ladies’ toilets.
Phew, what a night. It must have been two o’clock before Oliver managed to get us back out of his car and into the villa.
Then there was a right hoo-hah when my sister and Maria-José-Inmaculada-Carmen woke up, and briefly exclaimed that they were having a second wind, and demanded to be taken straight back to the club. Luckily, the second wind lasted only long enough for the tantrum and tears to stop, the hugging to begin and then for them to reach the sofa and pass out again.
I remember asking Oliver if he wanted to stay over and him saying, ‘Absolutely not’ in a really exasperated voice.
