Page 28 of Girls Just Want to Have Sun

Before I even have a chance to respond, he speeds off. The brief encounter occupies my thoughts all the way down to the beach. I feel disappointed that it didn’t go better. And while I’d love to imagine that he seemed a little jealous, it certainly sounded like he wouldn’t be coming to see me sing later. I try to put him from my mind as I approach Nacho, who lets out a low wolf-whistle, playfully making out that he’s swooning over my appearance. You’d think I would go to pieces if an incredibly handsome and impressively vain man showed an interest, but all I can think of is how annoyed Matteo seemed. I summon up a cute grin for Nacho, who takes me over to a large group of beautiful people and introduces me.

‘This is Connie. She is a singer. I have rescued her from this crazy group of girls I have rented the villa to,’ he says, showing them a picture of the Dollz on Instagram.

Because I rarely think things through when I’m nervous, when they ask how I’ve enjoyed Spain so far, I blurt out that I’ve been cleaning up their vomit and picking up their bags and hair all morning. Nacho looks appalled but the rest of the group laugh, calling me Cenicienta.

I must look puzzled because he explains: ‘They are calling you Cinderella.’

The next two hours are among the most terrifying of my entire existence. Nacho and his friends climb repeatedly up a rock face and hurl themselves into the deep turquoise sea without a care in the world. Climb, squeal, plunge, repeat. It is horrific, and I am in danger of having a fatal heart attack just watching. Nacho emerges from the sea like James Bond and swaggers over to me.

‘Your turn,’ he says, holding out his hand.

I shake my head politely. ‘There are many other ways I’d prefer to die, thanks.’

Nacho honks with laughter and pulls me reluctantly to my feet. He drags me over to the rocks and the crowd insist on me climbing up with them. I get to the piece of jutting-out rock and peer over the top to the sea below.

‘No. No thanks. Not for me,’ I say. I may as well be standing at the top of the Empire State Building. There’s no way on earth that…Aaaaaarrrrrrggggghhhhh!

The bastard pushed me,is my last and only thought before I hit the sea, which feels like bloody concrete breaking every bone in my body. I plunge down almost to the seabed before I hover suspended in the water. I open my eyes and catch a glimpse of brightly coloured fish swarming around the rocks a few metres in front of me, before I’m thrust back towards the surface in a cloud of bubbles, crashing into the sunlight and gasping for air. Adrenalin blasts through me like an electric current.

What a rush!

‘Again,’ I yell, swimming back towards them. ‘Again!’

I amdyingto tell the Dollz what I’ve been doing. I am all but floating back to the villa having added cliff diving to my list of all-time favourite hobbies. I sent Ged and Liam a selfie of Nacho and me posing on the jutting rock with the sea far, far below. I got an instant aubergine and winking emoji back. They have little respect for comfort zones and personal achievements. As I pass by the supermarket from yesterday, I hesitate just a fraction before I swing in to buy some fresh bread, Fanta for Liberty, crisps, paracetamol for Big Mand and lemons for Tash. There’s an annoying part of me that really wants the Dollz to like me. When I reach the villa, I am amazed to find no one there. The whole place is empty, and I try not to feel too deflated that they’ve abandoned meagainas I put the shopping away.

I have a few minutes relaxing in the sun, thinking of Matteo and his dark moody eyes and his excellent manners and firm, muscular body. I wonder what he would make of my cliff-diving adventure. I spend some time trying to track him down on social media, searching Nacho’s Instagram first before I comb the internet with every combination of ‘fit, shredded, hot guys in Benidorm’. Before I know it, I am lost in a frenzy of searching for him on Tinder.

A short while later, I hear music filter through from the main house and cries of ‘The Chop’. I race through to witness the girls drawing back their hips and thrusting them forward. Tash sits back down as her leg is disappearing into an angry purple pumpkin. I can’t help but feel concerned.

‘Tash, are you sure that ankle is okay? I know a doctor who might look at it.’

‘No thanks, babes,’ she says flatly. ‘It’s gone completely numb anyway and the shoes I have for tonight don’t have straps, so I’ll still get them on. The show must go on, as they say. Yaaay!’

Before I can say anything, Big Mand, who is clutching her blue arm, the bruising clearly visible against her brown skin, yells over to me that she doesn’t need a doctor either as her arm is numb too. I give her the paracetamol and receive a slight nod in thanks. From somewhere, more Prosecco is produced.

‘Should you… erm, shouldn’t we be rehearsing and going over our song choices?’ I say, acutely aware that I haven’t got round to my own yet. ‘Or at least testing the equipment out beforehand?’

I am met with several frowns as they continue pouring out drinks. ‘So!’ Liberty squeals excitedly, her face lighting up as she waves her phone around. ‘The nuns have invited us to join them for prinks at their villa before we hit The Jolly Roger later!’

Tash rolls her eyes and says bitterly, ‘We’re not going if you just disappear off to get yourself fingered as soon as we get there.’

Liberty’s face drops, making it obvious that this was her exact plan. ‘I feel like the Mother Superior’s really into my vibe though,’ she says. ‘We had a real connection, you know.’

‘We know you had a connection. His hand, up your fanny,’ Tash says, clearly unimpressed. This is met with giggles from the rest of the girls.

‘Fingering? When did that make a comeback?’ brays Cherry. ‘It’s like checking a camel’s teeth before buying it at market. How many dinars are you worth?’

‘More than he can afford,’ says Liberty, brightening. ‘It’ll be free drinks, though.’

‘Okay,’ says Tash reluctantly over the cheering. ‘What time?’

‘Six o’clock, they said. I think their villa isn’t that far from here. They dropped us the location.’

This is ridiculous. ‘We don’t have time for the nuns,’ I say. ‘It’s nearly six o’clock now. We have to get sorted for?—’

‘Connie,’ Tash says forcefully. ‘Stop worrying about the gig. We’ll rehearse at the nuns’ villa. We’ll have plenty of time. Just make sure you look the part though, eh? That’s the most important thing.’

‘Yeah, it’s not what you sing, it’showyou sing,’ says Big Sue.

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