Читать книгу Destination Thailand - Katy Colins, Katy Colins - Страница 11

CHAPTER 2

Drapetomania (n.) An overwhelming urge to run away

Two hours later my head was still fizzing with ideas that maybe, just maybe, I could actually see the world, become a backpacker and change my life. Leaving sunken footprints in the sand, letting the cooling water of the shore lick my sunburnt feet, I closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh sea breeze. Our wedding vows would have taken place by now. Our spoken promise to love, honour and cherish each other for as long as we both shall live. A single tear fell down my cheek but I shook myself. Now it is the time for you. To make a vow, a promise, an oath to myself that is just as life-changing, but one I have full control over: to be happy.

I half-jogged back up the hot sand to a snoring Marie. Thankfully Ali was nowhere to be seen otherwise her unsexy catching-flies impression might have blown her chances with him. Tucking my travel wish-list back in her beach bag under her Heat magazine and bottle of sun cream, I gave her a nudge before she spluttered to attention.

‘What?…where?…who?’ She threw herself upright wiping the saliva from her mouth.

I smiled at Marie’s sleepy face and matted hair. ‘Hey, I’m going to head back to the hotel.’

‘Great idea, pass me that bottle of water and we’ll go. How long was I asleep? Did I miss anything?’ she asked between gulps, wincing at the heat and combing her fingers through her hair.

‘Nah, not much,’ I said casually, deciding to give the list some more thought before I told her my radical ideas. ‘So what happened with Baywatch boy?’ I asked nodding towards Ali’s cabin.

She huffed and flicked back her head. ‘Turns out he’s gay.’

I tried to stifle a laugh. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I did my classic lean-over-the-bar-to-suggestively-pick up-a-straw-manoeuvre. I swear that technique has never failed before.’

‘Isn’t that how you ended up pregnant with Cole?’ I teased.

She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Exactly! See, I told you, it’s a golden flirting style. Anyway, he didn’t even flinch. It was like my cleavage sparked nothing in his underwear department.’

‘So because of that you think he’s gay?’

‘No. But even when I licked my lips and walked over to him, Kim Kardashian-butt out and everything, he was too obsessed with watching these guys playing beach volleyball to notice!’

‘Maybe he just really, really loves sport?’ I suggested. She rolled her eyes, annoyed at having such a blot on her impeccable seduction record.

‘Trust me, I know. Let’s just say he was more interested in watching the guys grease up with sun lotion, than keeping track of the score.’

‘Ah, oh well. Hey, you know that I still love you.’

She smiled and shook her head. ‘Sorry, Georgia. We came here to help sort you out, not for Turkish hotties to put me in a bad mood.’ She stroked my arm. ‘At least I know my straw technique still works, well for straight men anyway,’ she laughed.

Listening to her talking it suddenly hit me that this was what I’d need to be doing now that I was single. Finding ways of attracting men’s attention. If Marie found it hard Lord knows how I was going to cope. I physically shuddered at being reminded that I was now flying solo. I was no longer someone’s better half, fiancée, or girlfriend. It was just me and soon I’d have to dive head-first into the ever shrinking dating pool. Oh God.

‘You OK, hun? You’ve gone a little pale under your sunburn.’ Marie’s voice brought me back to the present.

‘Yeah, yeah. Just a little tired.’

‘Right, well let’s head back, get some food and then we’ll get ready to head out and see what nightlife this town has to offer. And I’m not taking no for an answer.’

It was our last night here, and even though I’d handled the day pretty well so far, who knew what a few more cocktails could do to my fragile resolve? However, in the spirit of making changes to what now seemed like a pathetic life, maybe being forced out of my pit and into the bright lights of bar street would be a good idea.

‘Fine,’ I nodded

‘What?!’ Marie leaned over and hugged me. ‘I was convinced you’d say no.’

‘Well, maybe I’m going to try saying yes to more things from now on,’ I smiled.

‘That’s great, Georgia. See, I knew coming here would be the best thing for you. Tonight’s going to be awesome I can just feel it.’

*

Although being scrawny rather than slender, due to my recent loss of appetite – surely the only bonus in a breakup – looking at my reflection, I didn’t recognise myself. Staring back was a glamorously made-up woman, her slightly acne-pocked skin camouflaged in heavy bronzer, her glossy brown blow-dried hair framing her almond-shaped eyes, and a slick of lipstick staining her angel-bud lips. Marie had insisted on giving me a makeover, so the face that shone in the glass was nothing like the old Georgia, and I wasn’t sure I liked it. I felt self-conscious in my outfit. My hot pink clutch bag matched the vertiginous stilettos that she’d pressured me into borrowing, ignoring my protests that I walked like a drunk Tina Turner in heels.

‘We’ll walk slowly then.’ She shushed me by shoving a pale gold dress in my hands. It was the same one I’d bought on a whim a few years back, all hail Beyoncé. I’d never taken the tags off it after Alex had commented how it looked like I’d stolen it off a cheap hooker; I did have to admit that Queen Bey wasn’t going to be quaking in her rhinestone-studded boots at the sight of me. Marie must have packed it in secret. I wished that I’d had time to change into the baggy linen trousers and safe blouse I had picked out before Marie had hidden them. That had been a fun game.

We eventually made it out into the balmy evening to the chirp of crickets and smell of petrol fumes and headed to the harbour, where fifty-foot masts swayed on the inky blue water highlighted by white sugar-cube villas that shone from the hillside in the distance, their lights twinkling like fallen stars. This stunning setting was unfortunately butchered by the line of identical bars and nightclubs opposite the water’s edge. Every bar had A boards advertising fishbowls, free shots and buy-one-get-three-drinks-free offers in neon swirly handwriting. A girl wearing furry boots, tiny sequin hot pants and a bikini top that just covered her nipples danced over to us, wrapping her tanned arms around our shoulders trying to steer us into the bar she was working for.

‘All right, ladies! My name’s Mel, you ’ere on ya hols? Well you’ve come to the right place. The cheapest and best drinks in town are right ’ere. I’ll do ya three cheeky Vimtos for the price of one, any triple spirit an’ a mixer for just a paaand and chuck in a couple of shots too!’ The manic-eyed blonde half-screeched at us in a thick cockney accent without taking a breath. I glanced at Marie who looked as uncomfortable as I felt at having this strange woman half-woven around us.

The bar she was adamantly pulling us into was deserted. A sad bucking bronco waited patiently to chuck overweight tourists around in the corner, and the bar staff were leaning on the bar smoking while pathetic strobe lights bounced off the empty tables.

‘It’s like waaaaay early but trust me, this is the place to be. In a few hours you’ll be wantin’ to lezz up with me for nabbing you a table, as it’s gonna be kerazy!’ Manic Mel explained, looking at our half-terrified, half-disappointed faces.

A couple of other bar touts were peering over to see if she was going to get her catch or if they could have a go once we’d walked on. Seeing them eyeing us up like vultures, working out the commission they could get from us made me want to grab Marie’s hand and run back to the safety and quiet of our hotel room.

‘Yeah, go on then,’ Marie said, instantly crushing my hopes for a speedy exit. It’s your last night here, don’t be such a square, Georgia.

‘Awesome!’ Manic Mel cracked her thick make-up into a fake smile. ‘Follow me, ladiez!’

Back home the wedding guests would be dancing to ‘Come on Eileen’, hitting the free bar and trying to ignore Alex’s arrogant best man Ryan wafting his willy about as he streaked round the marquee with his tie on his head Rambo-style. But here I was, trying to drown out the Freddie Mercury tribute act, listening to Marie being chatted up by a group of baby-faced lads wearing matching ‘I got off my tits in Turkey’ T-shirts, and feeling my shoulders throbbing from sunburn. I wasn’t quite sure which was the lesser of two evils.

‘Georgia! This is Rickaaaay!’ Marie shouted over the music, doing her best Bianca Jackson impression as the lad she had her arm around looked on bemused. He was either too young or too drunk to know what the hell she was on about. ‘Him and his mates are from Cardiff.’

‘All right?’ Ricky headed in for a peck on the cheek but stumbled and half head-butted my cheekbone. Once all this cheap alcohol wore off that was going to sting like a motherlover.

‘Oww. Yeah fine,’ I said, rubbing my face, messing up the make-up that Marie had carefully applied following a YouTube contouring video in our room. I went to head back to our table to grab some ice – Manic Mel was right, this place had livened up since we’d arrived – but Marie caught my arm.

‘Come on, don’t stop now!’ she pleaded, her eyes alight with what was either happiness or a vodka-glaze before pulling me back out to the dance floor. ‘This is bloody brilliant. It’s so amazing to see you smiling again,’ Marie shouted over a Bohemian Rhapsody remix. ‘Also I think you’re well in there,’ she sang in my ear, nodding her head towards Ricky who seemed to have learnt his dance moves from the Inbetweeners film.

I scrunched up my face. ‘I dunno.’

‘I’m telling you, he’s gagging for it!’

I winced. ‘I really don’t think I’m ready for that.’

‘Maybe you just need to get it over with. Rip that plaster off?’ she suggested as an enthusiastic dancer hip-bumped past us.

I stared at Marie, remembering the last time she had tried encouraging me to ‘get it over with’. Memories of being 15 and waiting in the cold bunker, flooded back. Marie clocked my deadpan expression and wrapped her arms around me.

‘Sorry, forgot I’m not the world’s best cupid,’ she said gingerly.

‘It’s fine, but I need to take it at my own pace. And I don’t want to be rude but Ricky may still be a virgin.’

‘You could be a cougar!’ She burst out laughing. ‘No, I understand, but hey, it’s nice to know you’ve still got it. Plus, I read somewhere that if you don’t use it then it’ll seal back up,’ she giggled before spinning me around.

As she was teaching Ricky and his mates our signature lawn mower move there seemed to be some sort of commotion near the entrance. Expecting to see some ‘Z list’ Turkish reality TV star, Marie pulled us through the partygoers to get a better view. But where a fame-hungry wannabe should have stood was in fact a pretty woman wearing a long white dress, grinning and holding hands with a guy wearing a black suit. They were soon followed by energetic ladies all in matching sage green prom-style dresses as it dawned on me…we were being joined by a wedding party.

You’ve got to be kidding me. I glared up at the sky. On the night when, by this time, I should have been slow dancing with Alex, I was now face to face with an actual wedding, in the company of the kind of fun hosts who got the wedding customs out of the way before hitting the clubs to really party together. Alex would have hated that.

Actually, Alex would have hated this entire trip, from the plastic sun loungers, to the karaoke bars, to the flashiness of the Turkish men. He probably would have looked down at what I was wearing and commented on how much slap I had on. Grabbing Marie’s hand I led her to the ladies’ room.

‘OMG! Are you OK?’ Marie asked with concerned wide eyes. ‘I take it you saw the unwanted visitors. I can go and ask the bouncers to remove them if you like?’ She began bouncing on the spot Rocky-style.

‘No, it’s OK. I might be a little bit sick, but that could also be the luminous fishbowl we drank.’ I leaned onto the cold stone of the basin. ‘Oh Marie, seeing them has made this feel so real.’

‘What do you mean? Do you need to sit down?’

I shook my head. ‘Did you see the look that groom was giving his new wife? Did you see that? God! I could sense the hormones from way over here. It’s been years since Alex looked at me like that. Years! Maybe I’ve had a lucky escape, like you said. Maybe this is the perfect time for me to make some serious changes in my life. I’ve made a list like you asked.’ Marie looked totally confused, forgetting her brainwave on the beach. I rooted around in my clutch bag, spilling half of the contents on the tiled floor, and thrust the paper at her.

‘Read this. This is what I want to do with my life now. I’m sick of pining for what I probably never had anyway. I was so caught up in the wedding planning, making sure it would live up to the expectations of his mum and perfect Francesca, that I hadn’t thought about the actual marriage. The vows were the last thing I had to write, even though I nagged him into writing his, as I found the words just didn’t come,’ I admitted for the first time ever.

Marie tried to focus her hazy drunken eyes on the list.

‘I’m terrified of what the future will hold, but it has to be better than sharing my lovely home with a cheating fiancé, working a job I hate to pay the bills and being in more debt because of how much the wedding had cost. This should be the time in my life when I’m out there exploring, seeing the world, learning new things and finding me.’ I felt very passionate and might have been shouting slightly. God those cocktails were lethal.

For a few seconds Marie didn’t say anything. Then a huge grin broke out over her squiffy face. ‘This is awesome, hun. I really think you should go for it. God, I’ll miss you, but what better time to get out there than now? I’m so proud of how you’ve coped with everything and even seeing that couple tonight, you’ve done so bloody brilliantly.’

‘Thank you, but honestly I couldn’t have done any of it without you.’

‘Yes you could. You’re so amazing.’ She was definitely slurring now.

‘No, you’re the amazing one.’

‘No, you are!’

A girl with a humongous bouffant broke up our love fest as she barged past to dry her hands. ‘I want whatever they’re drinking,’ she called out to one of her friends in the stalls as we fell into a fit of giggles. Looking up at the clock near the sinks I realised we were leaving this country in a few hours’ time and we still hadn’t packed.

‘We need to be making a move, hun,’ I said. From the way she was swaying I guessed she was ready to head off too.

‘Aww, yeah you’re right. I’ve had such a good night! I know, you should come back here and get a job like lovely Mel, that could be a bit of travelling for you?’ Marie slurred, taking my hand to move past the ever growing queue for the ladies’ toilets. The bride and groom had long since been swallowed up amongst young Turks on the packed dance floor.

‘Err, yeah maybe,’ I absently replied.

We made it safely outside and out of the grip of commission-hungry touts. I could still hear snippets of a banging bass line and felt the buzz of adrenalin pumping through me. Under the bright light of the stars that were reflected in the pitch-black water lapping at the quayside I felt alive with excitement and anticipation at what my new future had in store. If I could survive coming face to face with another bride on what should have been my wedding day, then surely I could survive anything.

Back in the calm of our hotel room Marie was fast asleep in minutes after I stripped her off, tucked her in and turned up the air con. I took off my make-up, got into my cotton pyjamas and tied my hair into a low ponytail, letting the soft sheets wrap themselves around me. My head was spinning from the alcohol, the emotion, and the fact I’d survived coming face to face with a bridal party tonight of all nights.

I should be lying with Alex in the marital suite at the country house after drinking champagne in the huge free-standing bubble bath, making love as Mr and Mrs and marvelling at how perfectly the day had gone. The day of my dreams. But that’s the thing with dreams, they hardly ever become reality. No, what would have happened is this: the night would have ended in us rowing about why his mate Ryan had alluded to other women during the best man’s speech. My embarrassing uncle Ron, that we only invited to avoid any family politics but actually none of us wanted there, would have started an impromptu and uncensored karaoke during the cake cutting causing Alex’s parents to have strong words with their son over why he had married into such an uncouth family. Alex and I would have been too tired to even run a bath, let alone drink any more booze and we’d have fallen into a drunken snoring state on either side of the huge bed still in our clothes. Why start making love now when we hadn’t got jiggy in months? We’d settled into sluggishness and I’m positive that’s not the name of a Kama Sutra move. I’d put Alex’s lack of interest in me down to the stress and nerves of the wedding, or the fact that he was tired from working late again. I was so naïve! And to think he’d been getting it all along from someone else.

I looked fondly over to Marie; actually, lying slightly intoxicated next to my half-naked best mate in Turkey wasn’t too shabby a way to spend tonight either. Right now I was happy to remember today, not as the day I was supposed to get married, but the day I made a plan for my new life.

All I had to do now was put it into action.