‘I say we sleep in separate beds tonight. Make a point. If those boys think they can play us for fools, they have another think coming.’
I hold my breath and wait to see how this idea lands. I will do anything not to share a bed with Henri.
‘Agreed,’ says Amber.
‘Totally,’ says Mimi. ‘Although I might start off in bed with Carlton, touch his weiner and then when he gets excited, I will sneak off to the spare bed. I might even give him a full hand job just to make sure he picks me to couple up with.’
What is she not getting?
‘No. That’s not what we’re trying to do. In fact, it’s the opposite of what we are trying to do, Mimi,’ I say sternly. ‘Do not give Carlton or anyone else a hand job. We are trying to play it cool so that they know we are not to be manipulated.’
Mimi looks disappointed. ‘Okay, then.’ She stands up to reveal that she is wearing a highly provocative skimpy, black, lace negligée with cut-out bits and a balcony bra that is all but throwing her breasts in our faces. She twirls round so that we can see there is nothing at the back. Whatever string is between her butt cheeks is firmly hidden or invisible.
‘What are you wearing?’ gasps Amber, her eyes popping out of her head. ‘I thought we were doing the opposite of whatever you are doing?’
‘I’m showing the boys what they are missing. Isn’t that the plan?’
‘Well, if you’re doing that, then I will too,’ says Amber rooting through her case and pulling out slips of lace and thongs. ‘Got it.’ She holds up a tiny leopard print see-through mesh onesie the size of a baby’s sock and stretches it out.
‘You do you,’ I say wearily. With no Cam to impress, I couldn’t care less. ‘I’m going to wear the least attractive nightwear I can find.’
I lay my case down flat and open it up. There lying neatly folded on the top is a t-shirt with a picture of one solitary pineapple hanging from a plant with a caption ‘Hang in there’. I stare at it before gingerly picking it up. I hold it close. ‘I’ll wear this.’
Cam is sending me a message; I just know he is.
A few minutes later, after Mimi has doused herself with sickly sweet perfume, we stand admiring ourselves in the floor length mirror. Amber and Mimi look spectacular, like Victoria's Secret models.
‘It feels as though you both should be wearing wings, killer heels and carrying whips,’ I giggle.
‘And I like your choice of outfit,’ says Amber. ‘It’s very statement. Very elderly woman in a care home.’
We all start laughing at my oversized ‘Hang in there’ t-shirt over baggy striped pyjama bottoms, also two sizes too big. Only my neck is visible.
‘Now, stick to the plan,’ I tell them. ‘Nobody is getting a blow job. Not on my watch.’
We get a slow clap from the three boys as we enter the huge bedroom and parade down the central aisle between all the beds. The boys are whooping and cheering, especially at Amber and Mimi who do look absolutely stunning. They both make anextravagant show of walking like catwalk models, arms swinging and every few steps they stop and twirl to show off their amazing figures. Henri looks gutted when I come through the door dressed like his grandad. Then as we pass by and make our way down to the bottom three beds and get in them, the cocky, self-assured expectation rapidly disappears from their faces. Suddenly the whooping turns into moaning and huffing.
None of us have a clue what time it is, but the lights go off very suddenly, and before I know it, the boys are all snoring their heads off.
Living the dream is utterly exhausting.
Chapter 25
‘Who in their right mind votes for potholing down a haunted mineshaft?’ Giovanni says as we all climb into our harnesses the next day. We were woken at the crack of dawn to drive two hours through the jungle. We stopped off at a virtually abandoned roadside café for the toilets and breakfast, which was a plate of huevos ahogados which we were told was ‘drowned eggs’. They were delicious but probably not what we should have eaten on such a bumpy ride.
‘Zeez costumes are very, very unsexy,’ says Henri, pointing to our regulation baggy boilersuits.
‘It’s cruel is what it is. Cruel,’ says Amber looking genuinely upset. ‘And these safety boots. I wouldn’t be seen dead in these IRL.’
She must think we’re all part of an elaborate hallucination.
‘I’m covered in mosquito bites,’ complains Mimi, regretting having tried to roll her boilersuit up into a short playsuit.
‘They are getting everywhere,’ shrieks Giovanni, swatting at his arms and legs. ‘I’m sure they’re inside my suit.’
I take out my trusty insect repellent and spray everyone down. I pass Mimi some lint doused in ointment for her to dab on her bites to calm them down.
While they all try to give me a grateful smile, they look miserable. The instructors, who look haggard and genuinely surprised that anyone in their right mind has booked this tour, explain that the mine is haunted with the souls of over two hundred miners who lost their lives digging for precious metals.