Page 71 of Benidorm Again

‘How does…’Christ Almighty, what’s her poor husband called again?She’s constantly slagging him off. I should know his name. ‘Erm, how has the news gone down with…’

‘He doesn’t know. I haven’t told him. And to be honest, I’m not sure if he’s the…’

BANG. BANG. BANG.

We jump as someone thumps loudly on the door.

‘Wait here,’ I say, running down the steps and through the tiny living area to the front door. ‘Who is it?’

‘It’s Tash. Hurry up, I’m bursting!’

I fling open the door to see Tash looking very worse for wear. ‘The bog, babes,’ she announces. ‘Where’s the bog?’

I pointto the bathroom through a little archway. ‘First on the left.’

While she’s in there, I race up to the roof terrace. Cherry has overheard and is trying to hide behind a potted plant. ‘Don’t tell her I’m here.’

I sigh. ‘Okay. Got it. I’ll see if I can persuade her to go back to the villa. Looks like she’s been out all night too. Weren’t you together?’

Cherry shakes her head sadly, ‘No.’

I dash back inside just in time to see Tash emerge from the bathroom, pulling at her bum-skimming dress. ‘Sorry about that. I didn’t quite make it.’

Good God.

‘What do you mean?’ I ask warily. She is as white as a sheet. It could have been either end or both.

‘Doesn’t matter. Where’s your mop and bucket?’ She appears slightly cross-eyed and not entirely sober. ‘And we’ll need some bleach. A lot of bleach. And a new bathmat.’

Christ Almighty.

‘Wouldn’t you rather go back to the villa and rest?’ I say, fearful that she will hurl chunks all over the rest of my lovely, currently rent-free apartment.

‘No.’

‘Well, erm, I’ll go downstairs and get a mop. Youjust…’

‘I’ll get some fresh air on the balcony…’

‘No!’ I say forcefully. Tash stops, surprised. ‘Because… because you need to rest. Lie down.’ I grab her arm gently and guide her towards the sofa.

‘Okay,’ she sighs. ‘You’re right.’

‘What do you think is wrong with you?’ I ask.Ten pints too many?

‘Isn’t it obvious?’ she says in a small voice. Her lip trembles. ‘I’m pregnant, aren’t I?’

Oh my God.Can everyone just stop being pregnant for five minutes while I get my head round it all?

‘Pregnant?’ I squeak.

Tash nods glumly. ‘Probably.’

‘Or maybe food poisoning? Or a bad pint?’ I suggest. ‘Or a sickness bug from the plane?’

‘Who’s to know? But I feel pregnant.’ She rubs her tummy.

‘Why don’t you do a test?’ I ask. ‘Just to be sure.’

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