Page 26 of Benidorm Again

He’s too cocky and full of himself.

I risk a sly glance over.

Oh God.He’s watching me with a huge grin plastered on his face.

I. Do. Not. Fancy. Him.

I do not.

Chapter 10

The next morning, I skip breakfast because I cannot bear to face Luke, Dolly, the Maestro or anyone. And also because I had such a troubled sleep. Plagued with sordid dreams where Matteo was doing delicious things to me. Bringing me to a sweaty conclusion, only for me to open my eyes and see Luke. I woke up panting, with an aching between my legs, and couldn’t get back to sleep for the guilt.

I toy once more with ringing Matteo. But it is three in the morning over there. I’d truly love to hear his voice. See his face. Hear him tell me again how excited he is to see me in less than a couple of weeks.

Less than a couple of weeks.

A girl should be able to withstand a mild attraction to her singing partner, and not put her brand-new relationship in danger for the sake of a ten-day wait. I can’t help wondering if Matteo is experiencing the same attraction to Birdie. They will be huddled over a mixing desk together. Speakinginto the microphone. Their lips inches apart. Their hands might accidentally touch. Their faces might be cheek to cheek. They might be sharing inside jokes and becoming very close.

These things can happen.

Ping.

Cherry thinks she may have gone off her husband. She has awoken this morning to a startling realisation that he is thinning on top, and she very much prefers a man with a full head of hair. She is wondering if she should get out now while she still can. She is wondering about the suitability of Luke and is asking about the likelihood of his being a stepparent to her two feral offspring.

Big Sue demands more information in the group chat. What does Cherry mean when she says, ‘while she still can’? Big Sue wants to know if Cherry feels unsafe in the marriage or trapped in any way.

Cherry explains that while she is still in her prime, looks-wise, and her two children are young and barely recognise her husband, because he is always playing fantasy football when not at work, her chances of securing a richer, second husband with more hair are substantially higher.

Liberty warns Cherry to stay put. She has been through all of the dating apps, and there are no decent men on themarket, especially not ones who are rich and good-looking with lots of hair but who are also legally unmarried. Luke is off-limits because she has already put in a prior claim. She is making out that there’s some sort of waiting list, and I am in charge of it.

This is exactly the kind of distraction I need. I have been extremely lucky to find Matteo at just the right time in my life. I should not be throwing away this opportunity on a whim. I send him a message to say that I am missing him and really looking forward to seeing him soon, and that I hope he and Birdie are managing to make some great music together. Then, I delete the last part in case it puts ideas in his head. I make a coffee in my room, pack up my things and get on the bus before anyone else.

The concierge meets me in reception with all my cases and helps me to the coach. It is completely empty, so I walk towards the back, putting my handbag next to me to discourage anyone sitting beside me. I slide down in my seat and do a search for the local news headlines.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no, no.

The Manchester Evening News is running with the headline, “Star of the Royal Northern Sinfonia threatens to milk her leading man like a cow.” I scan the article, a lumpthe size of a turnip in my throat. It says the Royal family have the hump. It makes out I am chasing Luke down with the intention of “nabbing myself an heir to the throne of Norway”, and that I’m after advancing my singing career, I’m a “goal-digging nobody”. “Where has she come from?” they are asking.

Gah!Someone has leaked that I am nothing but a two-bit, cheap covers tribute act from Benidorm, way out of my league, with unrealistic working-class aspirations to fit into the elitist classical music crowd. Someone else is accusing the industry of being classist and that I am not to be treated like cheap meat just because of where I come from.

Gah!And they have illustrated the article with a picture of me pole-dancing in Benidorm wearing one of my carefully selected stripper outfits that The Dollz made me wear. They have taken it straight from Nancy’s website. Tash must have snapped it moments before I accidentally kicked Matteo in the face and sent all the drinks on the table crashing to the ground. Now, that would have made a good front-page cover. Thank goodness for small mercies I suppose.

I sink lower into my seat as people start to get on the bus. I’ll be lucky if I don’t get sacked from the Sinfonia for this and sent packing.

It’s a proper shitshow.

I stare at the image. My leg is hooked high around the pole, while I lean as far out as possible, my hair tumbling down into people’s drinks, my boobs are straining against the flimsy bustier, and my sky-high stripper gladiator sandals are screaming, ‘Have sex with me right now - up against this pole’. It is a very provocative image.

Dolly is thumping her way up the aisle towards me, peering down at the seats as she goes. ‘Is she here? Is Connie on board? Where is she?’

I let out an enormous sigh. Here we go. Might as well face the repercussions. I sit back up and pop my head above the seat rests. She spots me immediately. She hurries sternly up the aisle and flings the newspapers down next to me.

Is there any point in denying it’s all lies?

‘I can explain,’ I say before she starts on me.

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