Page 18 of Girls Just Want to Have Sun

‘Seriously though,’ he says, ‘you wandered out into the road looking at your phone instead of where you were going. It could have been much worse. You should be more careful in future.’

This brings my smiling to an abrupt halt. I squint up at him. ‘Just hold on there, pal,’ I say. Just to be clear, I have never called anyone ‘pal’ in my life. It must be the concussion. ‘I clearly had right of way as a pedestrian.Youhitmewith your’ – I glance over to his bike – ‘your old-lady scooter.’

‘It’s a moped,’ he says moodily. ‘A GTS300. Limited edition.’

Like I would care!

‘Whatever,’ I sigh, struggling to get up. He immediately hoists me gently to my feet. I yelp as pain shoots up my back.

‘You’re injured,’ he says, his voice suddenly full of concern. ‘We need to get you to a hospital.’

‘No, honestly, I’ll be fine,’ I say. A trip to the hospital is the last thing I need right now. If I have to cancel the gig tomorrow and Nancy finds out, then my career is over. ‘I’d rather get back to the villa, take some painkillers and lie down for a bit.’

A wave of dizziness swoops over me. I give him my full weight and feel him tense.

‘Where are you staying?’ he asks. I groggily show him through my cracked phone screen where the villa is. His face falls. ‘Ah,’ he says, ‘you’re one of Nancy’s tribute acts? I should have guessed.’

‘No,’ I say. ‘I mean, yes, but not with the Dollz. They’re just my support act. I’m the headline. Standing in for Ted Sheeran.’

Like that makes me sound important!

‘I’m more of an upmarket type of act.’

Now I just sound desperate.

‘No, I mean I’m more avant-garde. More ethereal. I take my audience on an emotional journey.’

Now I just sound shit.

‘Right. Of course,’ he says, avoiding eye contact. ‘Right. Let’s get you back to the villa.’

Two minutes later, we pull up outside. I climb unsteadily off the lady scooter. ‘Well, thank you for bringing me back,’ I manage, stumbling slightly as I walk away from him.

He insists on seeing me properly into the house but as we let ourselves in through the gate, we hear the sound of arguing sailing out through the open windows. He flinches as we catch a torrent of squabbles.

‘Who used all the Vagisan? It’s for making my hair sleek, not for your vaginal dryness, Liberty. Get your own!’

‘Who had a bath? You’ve used up all the bloody hot water.’

‘Who left the straighteners on? You’ve burnt the fucking rug!’

We slide past the house, I nod towards the BBQ, and we tiptoe to the gate, quietly shutting it behind us.

‘They’ve been like that since five o’clock this morning.’ I yawn, suddenly very tired.

‘You have such weird taste in friends.’

‘Oh,’ I say, ‘they’re not my friends.’ Another pain shoots up my back, stopping me in my tracks. ‘We only just met. Like I said, they’re a tribute act, whereas I’m more avant?—’

‘I’ll get you some water for the painkillers,’ he says, helping me over to a sunbed. The mattress is soft, and the light breeze is lovely on my hot skin. ‘Try this.’ He turns the control to a gentle massage, which instantly soothes my aching back. He goes off and comes back with an ice pack for my eye. ‘I’m worried you might be concussed so is it okay…?’

He’s asking me something, but I can’t focus… I fight to stay awake, but my eyes are so heavy… I feel so soothed and relaxed…My stinging eye feels so much better… He’s asking me to… No, he’s asking if he can go… He’s leaving… My good eye is sticky with Fanta and, once it closes, I can’t unstick it. It feels so heavy. Both eyes are clamped shut.

A fog of exhaustion takes me as I drift in and out of sleep, waking briefly to hear strange male voices. One of them is saying he is a doctor of cheese… No, he’s asking for some cheese… He’s checking my pulse and feeling my head because he thinks I’m lying on top of the cheese.

‘Queso,’ I say, pointing to the kitchenette. ‘Mucho queso grande.’

I’m in awe at how fluently I can now speak the lingo because of my lovely head injury. My hand feels like a ton weight as I attempt to indicate the whereabouts of the cheese. I hear mumbled talking again and…plenty of rest… keep an eye… acute whiplash.

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