Page 3 of Benidorm Again

This causes an instant avalanche of excitement.

‘We love a good stag do,’ Cherry yells. ‘It’ll be wild!’

Shitting hell.

Chapter 2

A week later, settled back home in Newcastle, the Benidorm trip already seems like a world away. The Sinfonia tour starts tomorrow. I have spent days shopping for gowns to wear on stage. My credit card is groaning under the weight of the expense.

Liam, snaps me from my thoughts. ‘Connie, love. You’ve got that haunted look again. Can you stop thinking about Matteo for two minutes while we get through this rehearsal? I’m sure there’s a good reason why he hasn’t called yet today. He’s like nine hours behind or something. Besides, Ged and I are in the middle of some very important couples’ vision-boarding for our wedding, and he’s waiting for me to decide on what colour horses we want. Coral or sage green. And we’re trying to decide on whether to get a kitten or a new airfryer.’

‘Yes. Sure. Sorry. I’ll start again. From the top,’ I say, restarting the backing music as I open my mouth to sing. Now that he’smentioned Matteo not ringing, he’s given me something else to worry about.

‘Louder, babe. From the heart,’ Liam says as though he’s directing me in a Netflix movie. ‘Let the audience get their hands on a piece of the real you. Not the wooden you. You’re not half tree. I’m thinking use your arms more. Wave them around as if you’re juggling very slowly. That’s what all these opera singers seem to do. Just try to relax.’

Relax?

‘Two thousand sceptical opera-lovers are turning out to see who the Sinfonia have replaced their much-loved singer with,’ I say nervously. ‘You try being relaxed about it.’

Liam raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Imagine you’re floating in the clouds on a magical, singing breeze,’ Liam says, waving his wand. ‘Your voice is like a gust of wind wafting through the audience, light and ethereal.’

I try again but my throat sounds dry and scratchy. All the excessive drinking, people everywhere smoking, and me, bawling my eyes out unnecessarily on numerous occasions in Benidorm has taken its toll.

The living room door opens. ‘Are we role-playing?’ says Ged, eyeing Liam’s wand and cape playfully. He flicks his gaze over to me. ‘If so, I’d like to play the part of customer demanding a full refund.’

‘Very funny,’ I say,smoothing down the tight bodice of my gown. I ruffle out the heavy, velvet, ruched skirt to hide my bare feet. It feels like I’m wearing my own bodyweight in silk taffeta and sequins.

Ged blows me a kiss before turning to his fiancé. ‘Liam, darling, is that my dragon’s heartstring wand you are using as a baton? Because you know it’ll only work if you wear the Sorting Hat, don’t you?’

They exchange a mischievous look. They are opposites but they make an ideal couple. Ged is in the music business but can be very sane and sensible at times. Liam is a music teacher with a tendency to be outrageous and flamboyant. And while Ged stacks a dishwasher with the precision of a Swedish architect, Liam throws them in like an ape on crystal meth, but I’d trust them both with my life.

‘I’m so nervous,’ I say, flustered. ‘I’ve had to learn a lot of songs very quickly. My vocal range might not be up to the job. The Maestro is supposed to be one of the most demanding in the whole of Europe. The audience will have unbearably high expectations. And never mind trying to fit into these ridiculous theatrical costumes.’

They look at one another as though I’m being melodramatic. Which I am. I am TERRIFIED. My mother was anextremely successful opera singer. What if I can’t fill her shoes?

‘It’s about confidence,’ Liam says softly. He gives me a gentle, reassuring look. ‘You’ve got this, Connie Cooper. You have nothing to worry about, my lovely.’

‘Thanks.’ I smile, grateful for the reassurance, but it’s like telling water not to be wet. At that moment, my phone bursts to life, causing me to drop it.

‘Connie, babe, you really must stop dropping your phone every single time Matteo calls,’ says Liam. ‘Surely, you can’t be that nervous around him?’

‘No,’ I say, scooping down to pick it up. ‘Of course not.’

I AM SO FECKIN EXCITED. Even though I keep obsessing about our relationship, and whether I’m merely his ‘rebound’ and not his ‘the one’. But more than that, our time together in Benidorm was so short, I’ve convinced myself it would be insane to expect him to commit to being exclusive with each other at such an early stage.

If only I were brave enough to ask him. But of course, that would cause any man to run screaming for the hills - like my last boyfriend did.

I jab at the phone, trying to press accept and accidentally reject the call. It immediately rings again. My fingers have turned to mush. This is so stressful. I take abeat. You’ve got this Connie Cooper. He’s just a man. A magnificent, dark-haired, broody-looking, multi-lingual over-achiever with the instincts of an MI5 special operative, the brains of a Nobel prize winner and the looks of a movie star. Why be nervous?

‘Oh, hi,’ I say, trying to sound light and casual – the sort who doesn’t sound on the edge of a substantial breakdown each time the very new love of her life phones her.

‘Did you drop your phone again?’ Matteo says with a hint of amusement in his voice. Thank God, he can’t see me. My face has gone full coal furnace.

‘No, no. I just… I mean, yes. The phone. It’s… slippery.’

Ged and Liam are shaking their heads at me. Unfortunately, they’ve had to witness this low-level deception more than once.

‘Slippery?’ Matteo asks.

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