Page 64 of Benidorm Again

Ged and Liam are nodding vigorously at this more than reasonable suggestion.

‘Everyone calls their children after where they were conceived these days. I’m not going to name my baby Low Fell or whatever town Sister Kev’s from, am I? No. Vegas is the place. I wouldn’t dream of anywhere else. Baby Vegas. It sounds so….’ Tash sighs happily, unable to find the right word.

Big Sue gives Ged and Liam an apologetic shrug.

‘I’m surprised you haven’t considered Elvis,’ says Big Mand drily. ‘Or Slot-machine as a fun middle name. You do know I deliver babies for a living, don’t you? And they are not all that, I’ll tell you that much for free.’

‘Or Bellagio sounds nice,’ says Tash in a world of her own. ‘Baby Bellagio. Baby Vegas. Baby Elvis.’ She drums her fingers lightly on her huge bottom lip. ‘I can’t choose.’

‘I don’t know what’s more disturbing,’ says Big Sue, rattling off some stats to do with single mothers, unwanted pregnancies and benefits claims.

Before the rest of us can react, the queue has disappeared, and the airline attendant is beckoning us all forward with our huge towers of luggage. She is calling for assistance and complaining that we should have filled out a notification of excessive luggage online ahead of the journey. There will be hefty financial penalties to pay. Everyoneturns towards me.

No one has had the courage during the flight to tackle Tash on her ‘surprise’ bombshell. It has somewhat put a slight dampener on the proceedings. I can tell by the way Ged and Liam keep whispering to each other that they are not best pleased. Liberty is still barely talking to any of us after the club incident with Luke. She blames us for him walking out. Cherry is unusually quiet and has not even leapt up to dance in the aisle once. Not once.

When we finally pile through the exit at Alicante airport, the heat hits me, and I am immediately transported back to last month. The sizzling heat, the Latino music, the smell of olives mixed with taxi fumes wafting on the hot air. As the warmth of the sun penetrates my bones, I breathe deeply to inhale the familiar scent of Spain. The midday sun is blazing in the cloudless blue sky, and everyone on the bustling concourse appears to be smoking cigarettes as though we have arrived in the 1970s.

I quickly switch on my phone to discover that I have missed four calls from Matteo. I hurriedly text him to say that I’ve been in flight mode and have just arrived in Alicante. He texts me back immediately to remind me that heis thinking of me and hopes the flight over has gone well. He signs off as Mr Window Seat. I stare at his message as a surge of longing powers through me. This is where we first met. Where our incredible journey of self-discovery and personal growth began. Where passions were ignited, where truths were…

‘CONNIE, FOR FUCKS SAKE, WE HAVEN’T GOT ALL FUCKING DAY!’ Tash yells at me.

She’s going to make a lovely mother.

They are all loading their cases onto an already overloaded roof rack. Our small, wiry driver from the last trip, Jorge, is visibly sweating as he forces cases into tiny crevices on the bus. He is bewildered at the amount of luggage we have. His face drops when he sees me lug my trolley over.

‘Hoargghhhay says we might have to sit on the cases because he can’t get them all in,’ says Liberty in a sulky tone. ‘Apparently, someone should have notified him beforehand.’ She trains her gaze on me.

‘When are you going to get over yourself, pet?’ booms Big Mand. ‘We’ve just about had enough of your sulking. Haven’t we, lasses?’

We all nod.

‘It wasn’t our fault that your Norwegian prince took off. Double dipping is what you were doing,’ Big Mand says firmly.

‘You win some, you lose some. You should know that better than any of us. You’re the only person I know to have exhausted your Tinder App,’ agrees Tash. ‘You didn’t sulk when any of them disappeared off.’

‘Exactly. You’ve been through more men than I’ve had hot dinners. No, wait. More men than I’ve had…’ Cherry loses her train of thought, and no one can be bothered to wait.

‘We go! Go now!’ bellows Jorge, climbing onto the minibus. He probably can’t believe the difference in our arrival compared to last time when we were pissed, barely clothed, and all fun, frolics and giggles. The atmosphere is currently turbo-charged with resentments and judgy vibes.

Liberty flicks her hair extensions over her shoulder and gets on the bus with a huge, frustrated sigh.

‘Just ignore her,’ Tash says. ‘She’ll come round.’

Ged and Liam give me a worried look.

‘It’ll be fine,’ I reassure them. ‘I promise.’

Luckily, Ged and Liam sit together, Tash and Cherry sit together, Big Mand and Big Sue sit together, and Liberty says she needs some alone time to process. That leaves mefree to sit at the back and do some emergency Googling. I desperately need to sort out where we will eat for the first night on arrival to Las Vegas. I really hope Matteo hasn’t made plans for us, and he will be in the mood for a group gathering. I search trending restaurants that have big tables to seat nine of us together.

Ged definitely wants to go to EggSlut for breakfast, so I will book a table there for the following day. Before I run out of data, I also try to quietly book shows and fun activities for us to do in Vegas on the nights we won’t be singing. My heart droops when I see that some of them need to be booked months in advance. The Grand Canyon skywalk is much, much cheaper than a helicopter ride over the Canyon, so I’ll book that. Then the helicopter ride over Vegas at night comes in much cheaper again, so I will book us all onto that too. The Emerald Cove kayak trip keeps coming up, but I’m not sure I can imagine The Dollz wanting to do that. I’ve never seen Tash not in heels. Same with Death Valley. I couldn’t bear the thought of Tash’s spikey heels digging into those poor horses as we trek through the dry, dusty mountains. There’s a lot of ziplining through shopping malls on offer, and something happening at the High Roller that might be a thing. In a panic, I book us an unlimited pass for the STRAT Tower rollercoaster thing whereyou hang off the edge of the highest building in Vegas, staring death right between the eyes. Ohgodohgodohgod. I’m panic booking. I take a deep breath in, praying my credit card will withstand this amount of pressure, and scroll through the list of which celebs are currently touring. Kylie Minogue or Harry Styles would be ideal. And a meet ’n’ greet is essential.

By the time we arrive in Benidorm, I have more or less sorted the pre-moon spree itinerary. I just need to pull it all together into chronological order so that everyone knows when and where they need to be. The last thing I need is anyone getting lost or going AWOL.

A message from Matteo pops up. He will facetime me in half an hour. I just manage to send a reply before my phone runs out of charge. I’m on 1%. Hopefully, we will be able to get all the luggage off the bus and into the villa so that Jorge can run me and my luggage over to Voices, where I have use of the sweet little apartment above the bar. It has a glorious view from the roof terrace all the way down to the beach. And of course, a shower cubicle that fits two. I can’t wait. I can facetime Matteo from there, in private. I want him to know how much I have missed him, and how excited I am to see him in a few days.

I should also tell him that I won’t be arriving alone.

‘No, Cherry. You’re wrong,’ Tash is arguing. ‘Connie, isn’t Cherry deliberately sabotaging my dreams of happiness with Sister Kev?’

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