Page 21 of Benidorm Again

‘He’s not happy with either of you and doesn’t want any unnecessary gossip. He feels you are deliberately stealing the limelight from the Sinfonia. So perhaps, Luke, being seen coming out of Constance’s hotel room wouldn’t be such a great idea.’ Dolly hands me the dress and folds her beefy arms. She stands guard as though she’s a bouncer recently released from a ten-year stretch in the world’s toughest prison.

Unphased, Luke gives us a little bow. ‘You’re quite right, Dolly.’

‘Connie says yousaved her life last night when she was knocked into the road,’ Dolly says more softly. ‘That’s incredible. Thank God you were with her.’

Luke immediately blushes. ‘It was no big deal. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time. If not me, someone else would have pulled her back. Or the bus might have swerved or something.’ He looks directly at me as though waiting for a response.

‘It was a big deal to me,’ I say, smiling up at him.

‘It’ll be an even bigger deal if the press get wind of it,’ says Dolly. ‘Especially when they realise who you are, Luke.’

I’m confused. ‘Who you are?’ I say, repeating Dolly. ‘What do you mean?’

Luke immediately turns into a Hugh Grant-type figure. ‘Ah. Righto. That’ll be my cue to leave. A hero’s work is never done. Lives to save and all that. Dolly, would you happen to know where my cape is?’

I immediately burst out laughing, causing a smile to spread across his face.

Dolly waits for him to walk down the corridor away from us before squinting at me.

‘What? That was funny,’ I say.

‘Just because he stopped you from going under a bus, please don’t encourage him.’

I open my mouth to protest, but she cuts me off.

‘He does this every time. He’ll reel you in. Just because he’s filthy rich, and he’s Norwegian royalty, he thinks he can get away with anything. There’s always a drama whenever he’s around. Trust me.’ She spins on her heel and marches away.

So, after a lot of intensive searching on the internet, I have found out that Luke is not really Luke. He is from the House of Glucksburg on his father’s side and the Swedish Bernadotte dynasty on his mother’s, making him very posh and very titled.

‘He is related to King Harald,’ Ged is telling me. He too, is scouring the world wide web for pictures. ‘Here’s one of him with the Royal family. OUR Royal family! And here’s one of him skiing with the Beckhams. And here’s one of him with Prince Harry in a hot tub. Oh, my God! How did the Northern Royal Sinfonia even afford him for this tour? Here’s one of him singing with Bono for charity.’

It gets worse.

Luke has severalnames and is actually called Count Nikolai. Which Liam finds extremely sexy. ‘Jeez, he’s like the James Bond of opera.’

‘He sounds more like a Bond villain to me,’ says Ged. He is not warming to Luke in the slightest. ‘Never trust a Royal. Not even a Scandanavian one. That’s what they say.’

‘Literally no one has ever said that,’ I say. Where do I go with this new information? It changes things. I feel like I should be learning to curtsey and walking around my room with books balanced on my head. My nerves are on end at the thought of singing with him tonight.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

It’s Tash. She wants to remind me that she is technically still sort of single because Sister Kevin, her bearded nun from Benidorm, seems to be dragging his heels where pinning down an agreed relationship status is concerned, and she’d like to keep her options open. She is wanting David Beckham’s number from Luke. She is after a sugar daddy.

Not happening.Although, she has my every sympathy with the uncertainty around their relationship status. Fixating on it can make any normal, easy-going woman borderline psychotic.

‘Why don’t you take your mind off it all and go shopping?’ suggests Ged.

‘I’d love to, but they’ve got me under a kind of house-arrest,’ I explain.

‘That wouldn’t stop me,’ Ged says firmly before hanging up.

He’s not wrong there. Who could forget the lengths he went to for that paisley Gucci tank top? Two wasted trips to London and a flight to Germany, in case you’re wondering.

This has all really thrown me. Which is a shame because I was looking forward to exploring Manchester today and going on a lovely shopping spree for outfits. Romantic outfits for my romantic trip to Las Vegas to stay with Matteo. A vision of his gorgeous face pops into my head. Dark twinkling eyes with a thousand stories in them.

I lie back on the bed and conjure up images of Matteo and his dreamy smile. He has a way of making music come alive, infused with his energy and passion. He has a way of making me come alive, infused with his energy and passion. I’ve never known anything like it. He is a man of many talents. And I want to look nice for him when I get to America. Really nice.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

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