Page 49 of Benidorm Again

‘Okay. Take me straight to his house, please,’ I say, whipping out my phone to give my dad a ring.

Two hours later, I’m back home. I burst through the door and flop straight down onto the sofa.

‘Do you need wine?’ Liam offers. ‘A lot of wine?’

I nod. ‘Unfortunately, I’ll have to wait until after the show.’

‘Ged,’ Liam yells through to the kitchen. ‘Do we have anything we can give Connie for the shock that doesn’t include alcohol?’

Ged bustles through holding a tray laden with hot chocolates with squirty cream and a tower of cookies. ‘Way ahead of you.’

We take a mug each and dive in.

‘How long do you think it’ll last?’ I say, shaking my head in disbelief. ‘He could barely move his face. He couldn’t speak without drooling.’

‘He’s only had a tweakment, so maybe another two weeks,’ Liam says, taking a slurp of his hot chocolate. His facelights up. ‘Brandy?’

Ged winks at him. ‘Yes. I put a shot in each one. For the shock. Now, Connie. Forget all about your dad’s botched Botox job and tell us about Luke, and these rumours online about the two of you. What is going on?’

I try to articulate what happened this week but somehow, it doesn’t sound right.

‘So,’ Liam sums up for me. ‘The two of you realised you had amazing chemistry on stage, yes?’

I nod.

‘Then you realise there’s chemistry off-stage?’

‘Uh-huh.’

‘Then he books you into a luxurious, five-star hotel and attempts to sweep you off your feet?’

‘Correct. Is this off the record? Because it’s starting to sound like another police inter –’

‘But conceals that he was the one paying for it?’ Liam holds up a hand to stop me. ‘And then he showers you with expensive gifts and propositions you while disgustingly drunk and high on class A narcotics?’ He looks to Ged. ‘It sounds rather like how you proposed to me, Ged, darling.’

‘Classic love-bombing from your typical pompous opera weirdo. What did I tell you?’ Ged says, ignoring him. ‘We’ve got you, Connie, hun. Just get through these last twoperformances and then you never have to see him again. Ged and I will come to both shows. We’ll keep guard.’

As though she was listening in, my phone pings.

‘What time is the Sinfonia show?’ Tash is asking me on the WhatsApp. ‘We want to come and show our support.’

Liberty wades in with immediate excuses to say that she’d love to show her support, but listening to classical music makes her feel queasy.

‘Listening to classical music is no different to really bad morning sickness or reflux,’ texts Cherry. ‘Just stay calm, go to a happy place in your mind and try to remember that you’re not actually dying.’

Liberty informs us that her happy place is the mirror. She will bring one with her.

Big Sue says that she will attend but that she will have to wear noise-cancelling earphones because she has an irrational fear that classical music causes narcolepsy. Big Mand then agrees to wear hers so that Big Sue doesn’t feel like the odd one out.

‘And will the bar remain open throughout the entire performance?’ Tash is checking because they might just listenfrom there.

I can’t help smiling to myself. They would rather be anywhere else, but they are making the effort just for me. They can all be so lovely when they try.

A few short hours later, I’m backstage at the North’s iconic musical hub. I stare at myself in the dressing room mirror.

‘Connie, you’re as white as a ghost,’ Dolly is saying. Her voice seems strangely distant. She clicks her fingers in front of my face to snap me to attention.

I’m nervous as anything. All my loved ones are sitting in the audience, and I am desperate to give them my best performance and yet the heaviness of the last two days is weighing on me. I can’t summon the will or the enthusiasm.

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