A mere thirty minutes of queueing, two minutes of Cam sounding very annoyed in Spanish and some shaking of heads and slapping of papers, we are leaving the airport terminal empty-handed and making our way back to the car.
Cam is muttering expletives under his breath. ‘Why tell me they have it when they clearly haven’t?’
‘What do you mean? Why can’t they find my luggage?’
Cam stops marching to face me. ‘Oh, they’ve found it. They know exactly where it is.’
‘Great! Where is it?’
‘Dubai. It’s being treated as a terrorist threat. Apparently, they found suspicious items. A digital thermometer, a tourniquet, bottles of antibacterial liquids and a penlight?’ He doesn’t seem impressed. ‘It’s hardly going to be your case, is it?’
Ah. I should explain.
‘Lois. My sister the nurse? What you’re describing is essentially a complete medi-pack. It could save lives.’
The frustration falls from his face as he laughingly rolls his eyes. ‘Hah. I should’ve known. Well, I doubt you’ll get any of that back, but the good news is they have promised to forward therest of the luggage, you know, the really important stuff, your high heels and your hair pieces. It should be on a flight today or tomorrow.’
‘I love how you are taking my wardrobe so seriously.’ My voice dripping with playful sarcasm. ‘Thank you so much for helping me get it back. I really can’t live without my stick-on eyelashes.’
‘Who could?’
‘Does that mean you might even let me go on the show?’ I say, treating him to my best adorable smile.
‘I could get into a lot of trouble if I do.’
Now that I’m here, I feel it would be rude to at least not to try and win the hundred grand.
‘Would it help if I said mine and Lois’s signatures are virtually identical and that her fiancé says only a thorough forensic investigation would tell them apart, and that unless either of us confessed, LoveIt TV would never know? And he’s an up-and-coming lawyer so...’
‘Except, as the show’s producer, you have confessed to LoveIt TV. Twice.’
I am never drinking free wine ever again.
‘You’re right. I’m sorry for putting you in this situation and I’m sorry we’ve had a wasted trip to the airport, but I did enjoy the ride through the jungle. It was worth coming all this way just for that. Maybe we’ll see some giraffes or zebras on the way back.’
Cam studies me as I fiddle with my hospital gown, exposing my bikini in the process. ‘We can do better than that. Come on. I need to show you something. But first, we’ll pick up some clothes for you in town. Get whatever you need. You can also send a list to Jake, your runner when we get back. We can always say you didn’t confess until tomorrow.’
‘Cool. Thanks. One more day in paradise. I’ll take it.’
I am beyond grateful.
Apparently, the only clothes in this small one-horse town on the way back to the villa, are to be found in a charming artisanal street market. It is bustling with locals. There is one stand, amid two kebab meat vendors, selling clothes. Traditional embroidered loose tops and lots of colourful ponchos leap out at me. I’ve never worn any bright colours in my life. The gap-toothed lady looks me up and down, indicates for me to twirl around and disappears behind a huge mountain of clothes. She emerges to thrust a small pile into my arms.
‘Thirty dollar,’ she says, all gums.
‘Gracias,’ I say, too polite to argue. ‘Is there anywhere to try them on? Pongo las ropas?’
She shakes her head at my pidgin Spanish. ‘No need. They perfecto. She very lovely.’ She holds out her hand to a laughing Cam who is nodding in agreement. He hands over the money while I feel a small tickle of pride ballooning inside. He thinks I’m lovely.
‘Thank you,’ I say as we leave. ‘I’ll pay you back.’
‘No worries,’ he says as I bundle the kebab meat-scented clothes onto the back seat. ‘Even if they don’t fit, at least you’ll smell delicious in them. Nice try at the Spanish by the way.’
He thinks I smell nice and that I’m culturally sensitive.
We pull off the main road leading away from the airport and follow the signs to Cenote Maya. I can see all manner of tropical birds flying around, flashes of yellow, purples and blue as we whiz by.
‘How spontaneous would you say you are?’ he asks.
