Page 3 of Take a Chance on Greece

The hubbub of our fellow tourists faded into noisy nothingness as I waited for Amira’s verdict. After what seemed like a lifetime of scrutiny, I felt her putting the plastic covering back in place and pressing on the tape to make sure it stuck to my skin properly.

‘Well, Lydia, the good news is that it’s cleanly done. It’s rather swollen at the moment, but that’s to be expected. The skin doesn’t look overly irritated, and there’s no sign of infection or anything bad around the area.’ It was a relief, even though the thought of getting an infection hadn’t even occurred to me. ‘And the script is really quite beautiful,’ she continued. ‘Trust me, I’ve seen much worse. Whoever did it was obviously talented and took care to do a proper job.’

What did I care how beautifully the words were written? What mattered was that they were words which it was no exaggeration to say had the capacity to ruin my entire life. Now that I was no longer able to deny the existence of the tattoo, the anger took over.

‘Yep, definitely showing great care and diligence in agreeing to give a tattoo to someone who was quite clearly drunk.’

Kat and Amira exchanged glances.

‘What?’ I snapped, then immediately regretted it. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you guys. I just don’t understand how this could have happened.’

What I really meant was I couldn’t understand how this could have happened to me. It was just the kind of impulsive thing Kat would end up doing on a night out, but I normally never made any decisions without thinking at least five steps ahead to assess the consequences and calculate whether it was worth taking the risk. Boring it may sound, but that kind of careful consideration of circumstances had always kept me on the straight and narrow and prevented any disasters happening. Until now.

Amira knew exactly what I was really getting at. She smiled sympathetically.

‘The thing is, babe, you are the most sober-seeming drunk person we know. To be fair to whoever it was who did this, you probably appeared to be pretty normal, just another tourist wanting something special to commemorate their trip.’

‘But I don’t want a tattoo as a souvenir,’ I gulped, feeling thoroughly sorry for myself. ‘I don’t want a tattoo full stop. Especially not one with the name of someone who isn’t my fiancé.’

Kat cleared her throat. I glared at her. ‘If you dare be a complete pedant at this crisis moment in my life and point out that Jim isn’t yet my fiancé, I will never speak to you again. You know exactly what I’m getting at.’

Kat held her hands up in surrender, although I could tell from the sparkle in her eyes that it was precisely what she had been about to do. ‘I didn’t say a thing and I’d never be so insensitive.’ Her voice grew more serious. ‘But speaking of Jim, what are you going to tell him?’

That of course was the question which was making my already-delicate stomach churn even more. What on earth could I tell him? Where would I even start? In self-help books, the experts always say that the foundation of a good relationship is honesty. But how could I sit down and have an open and honest conversation with Jim about how I’d somehow acquired a tattoo when I wouldn’t be able to answer the first question he’d inevitably ask? Who was the mysterious Andreas, and what was it about him that had inspired Drunk Me to get his name tattooed on my skin for the rest of eternity? Having the name of another man on my back was not a good look, and certainly not something I could easily explain to Jim when I couldn’t even explain it to myself. I could protest all I liked that it didn’t mean anything, but if I were in Jim’s position, would I believe me? No, in this situation I felt strongly that honesty was not the best policy.

‘I’ll get it covered up before he can even see it,’ I said determinedly. There were loads of programmes on television which featured people getting cover-ups for dodgy tattoos, and while I’d never thought I’d require that kind of service, it was reassuring to know that there was generally a solution for even the biggest, most misguided of tattoo errors. Perhaps I could get a bunch of flowers inked there instead, I thought wildly. Or a cute dog. Frankly, I’d even accept the option of a plain rectangle of ink if it concealed the dreadful phrase before Jim saw it.

This time it was Amira who cleared her throat to signal another obstacle to my crazy plans.

‘Oh, just say it, before our fellow passengers feel obliged to offer cough sweets to the pair of you with all the throat clearing you’re doing,’ I sighed. ‘Let me guess, you’re about to dash my last hopes? In which case, please can you get on with it. I’m not sure I can cope with any more horrible revelations.’

‘I’m sorry to be the bearer of worse news, but you can’t get it covered up just like that, Lyds. It’s got to heal properly first. You don’t want to end up with scarring.’

‘But how long is that going to take?’ I asked, the panic rising still further.

Kat pursed her lips. ‘Longer than you want it to. Put it this way, it’s not a plan that’s going to be possible before you next see Jim, unless you pretend you’ve got some contagious disease and have to go into quarantine for a prolonged period.’

I mentally crossed the cover-up option off the list. But before I could vocalise my next suggestion, the bus pulled up at the airport, and all the other passengers stood up in a hurry to be the first ones at the check-in desks. I didn’t even bother undoing my seat belt.

Amira and Kat watched me closely, a look of surprise on their faces.

‘Aren’t you going to join the masses charging for the departure lounge?’ asked Amira.

‘We’re all getting on the same plane. I don’t mind letting them go first,’ I said.

‘Who are you and what have you done with our friend Lydia? Getting a tattoo was out of character, but not caring about potentially being late? That’s even more unlike you. Are you unwell?’

Kat touched the back of her hand to my forehead in mock concern.

‘Stop teasing me. Why would I be in a hurry to get on a plane back home and face the disaster that will be trying to explain this tattoo to Jim? I can’t tell him, I just can’t. What if he thinks I’ve cheated on him? It would destroy him. We’re moving in together. Like literally moving in as soon as I get back from this trip. This is meant to be the start of our happy ever after, and I’ve completely messed everything up.’ I was actually wailing by now. A couple of stragglers who were still making their way off the bus turned to stare at me, which made me feel even more like wanting to curl up in a ball and die.

Kat put on her best bracing voice. ‘Everything’s going to be fine. Let’s get into the airport, grab a drink, and we’ll come up with a plan.’

I shrank against my seat, which once again set my back stinging.

‘Oh no, I am never drinking again. This whole situation happened because you two talked me into having more than my limit. Jim’s right. You are a bad influence on me. I wish we’d never come on this holiday. I think I prefer the option of staying on the bus and hoping this will all turn out to be a horrible nightmare.’

I actually pinched myself in a last-ditch hope that I really was asleep and dreaming this whole bizarre situation.

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